Fable: The Road to Rule
by fablegirl623
Summary: The Hero princess must overthrow her tyrannical brother to save the people of Albion he so heartlessly abandoned. The road will be dangerous, but with the guidance of her mentor Walter and the loyalty of her faithful canine Jax, she may be able to restore honor to the crown and defeat those who threaten its people. (This is a literary version of Fable 3 to show its depth and magic)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The people of Albion were not difficult to read. My brother was beyond hated; he was despised, loathed, and wanted dead by every man, women, and child in Bowerstone Industrial. None of these sentiments were voiced, of course, for doing so was slander against the King, and punishable by death under the conviction of treason. But unrest coursed through the veins of the kingdom. Even I could sense it, as I lead the pampered life of a member of the royal family. The servants were always polite and respectful, and at times friendly, but the resentment that would flash in their weary eyes could not go unnoticed, and each time I felt surges of guilt. Was I to blame? I am only the sister of the King, and my views were dismissible to him anyhow, otherwise, I would step forward to be the voice of the people.

"What a dreadfully sorry sight. Such a beautiful day to wasting in bed, don't you agree?" Jasper sighed, drawing the curtains open, sunlight streaming in, disturbing my restful slumber. I groaned and flipped over to my other side, pulling the covers in tighter around me, "What? Oh, go away Jasper." I grumbled at my most trusted and painfully prompt butler.

"Now that is hardly the response of a princess. I'm afraid it is time to rise. With your permission, I shall awake your sleeping companion." He then drew back the covers to reveal a black and white furry face looking up happily. Jasper stood looking down disapprovingly, a few lone grey hairs out of place. "Ah, yes. One's heart soars at such regal bearing." I propped up on one arm and scratched my faithful friend and smiled as he rolled over in pleasure. "I trust you both slept well. You have a busy day ahead."

I yawned and said sleepily, "Come on boy. If I have to get up, so do you." I threw the blankets and sheets aside, and gingerly placing both feet on the plush carpet. I adjusted my faint pink sleeping clothes, ruffled my dark hair, then pulled it over my shoulder, and stretched my arms out wide.

Jax jumped off the bed and pranced up to Jasper, tail wagging and head cocked. "It's not going to work." Jasper said sternly, folding his arms over his perfectly ironed uniform. "Don't look at me like that." Scratching the hairy canine head, Jasper caved. "Oh, very well. Good dog." My pet whined joyously and looked a tad smug if you asked me. "What a pair… the kingdom is doomed."

I glanced across my well-furnished room, not an inch of it my taste. It was far too regal and screamed the stiffness nobles should acquire. Many times I had attempted to make it more relaxed by disorganizing books, or throwing my blankets hastily over my four posted bed. However, it was always countered by busy servants with far too much time on their hands. Near the fireplace, I saw two sets of clothing hand-picked by Jasper himself, both suited for a King's sister. "Now, madam, if you will follow me, perhaps we can find more appropriate clothing for today's activities." Jasper said, waltzing over to the displays.

One was a simple outfit, a white blouse with a tan corset, a small flowing skirt with a slit down the front, matched with dark grey tights and light brown ankle boots. The next was far more elaborate; a flowing gown, with heeled shoes. I bit my lip and worked out what I should wear, such a petty and monotonous task. This was my life, I supposed. Being the sibling of the monarch, and a princess nonetheless, required no strategy or impact on the affairs of the kingdom besides public appearances. I was to uphold innocence and beauty for Albion to admire and cherish, and as the world grew ever darker, I would be a vapid distraction from their worries. At least, this is what I thought.

My concentration was broken as Jasper said, looking down at a small notepad, "Master Elliot is most eager to speak to you this morning, and is waiting for you down in the garden. No doubt you wish to look your best for your young 'friend'." He glanced up quickly, only to see me blush and take sudden interest in the fabric that made up the blouse. "I have taken the liberty of arranging two suitable outfits, if you would care to choose."

I bit my lip and considered each choice, both the elegance and sophistication of the gown would please my brother, but it would ultimately be hindering and uncomfortable. I grew irritated that I had to dress for others, and quickly strode over to the other outfit and looked to Jasper, "This one." He nodded and unfastened the clothes off the post and handed them to me. I walked over to the privacy and changed, glancing in the mirror briefly to tie my dark hair in a quick braid.

Jasper stood there smiling, perhaps at my rebellious attitude toward the King. "Ah splendid choice. I'm sure Master Elliot will approve. Perhaps you ought to make your way to him now." He hesitated then added, "And I would recommend avoiding your brother today. King Logan is rumored to be in an ill temper." I nodded seriously then pushed open the door to the gardens. "Have a good day, madam." Jasper called after me with Jax trailing.

"Will do. Bye Jasper." I walked out onto the balcony, smiling at the guards who saluted me, and the nobles who bowed deeply. Across the gardens and past the doors to my father's tomb, I saw Elliot standing, looking over Bowerstone Industrial. He heard my steps and turned around. He got down on one knee as my dog rushed forward to greet his favorite man.

"Oh, fierce warrior, are you here to join my army?" he asked, being answered by a slobbery kiss. "Good. We shall face all our enemies together, won't we? Yes, we will. Yes, we will."

I smiled and said while pretending to swoon, "Then the kingdom is safe."

"Ah, our fair princess," he grinned standing up, and my Jax sitting beside him, "your two brave knights will protect you with their lives." Jax barked in agreement. Elliot has always been a friend of the royal family, even when Father was king. His father was a friend of one of his greatest allies, Garth who had fought against his enemy, the malevolent Lucian. After that he was deemed a noble and was given vast wealth and was a trusted family friend ever since.

I giggled then answered, "I can look after myself, you know."

Elliot crossed his arms over his chest, "Really? I'm afraid I'll need some proof." His eyes suddenly became mischievous, "Perhaps you can give me a demonstration of your abilities?" I smiled, and he pulled me in. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his around my waist. A hug was a hug, but this one was special. I reluctantly pulled away, but wives of nobles are quite the gossips.

"How's that?" I asked.

"Hm, I don't know," he said, his eyes as playful as his words, "I'm not sure how effective that will be in a real combat situation." His handsome face grew serious, and his tone was grim. I wondered if that was how I looked when I thought about something. We looked alike in many ways. We both had light skin, and chestnut brown hair.

"I thought you'd never get up. Did Jasper tell you I wanted to speak with you?" he questioned.

I nodded. "Yes. Did something happen?"

Elliot ran a hand through his hair, like he often did when he was thinking, "I'm not sure, but everyone in the castle seems to be upset with your brother. More than usual." He added "And it's even worse down in the city." He crossed over to the balcony's edge and looked over the stone railings into the smog covered buildings of Bowerstone Industrial. "You hear such terrible stories," he continued, "Listen, they say a factory worker was executed this morning. I'm sure it's only a rumor, but you can imagine how people are talking."

I thought intently about what he was claimed, and a gut-wrenching feeling grew within my stomach. It was not disbelief I was feeling, it was the knowledge that this was something I knew Logan was not beyond. "The staff in the castle are anxious. I told them you'd speak to them. Will you do that? I'm afraid of what might happen if someone doesn't calm things down."

"If you think it will help."

"I do," he said sincerely, "they may fear the King, but they still care for their princess. So, my good princess, may I take your hand and escort you to the castle? Everyone's waiting for you." I smiled softly, grasping his hand firmly and walked toward the castle. "Good now let's go."

The garden was beautiful; spring had drawn the flowers out of their winter slumber. The fountains trickled clear water and the buzz of bees filled the air. "I can't believe your brother could have had a worker executed. But sometimes I think…" he lowered his voice to avoid being overheard, "well, that there's something wrong with him. He's changed so much. And he looks so tired all the time." We kept walking, nodding at people who acknowledged us.

"I told Sir Walter about the speech. He'll be there to support you. I don't know what this place would be like without him." I then felt my confidence about the whole ordeal surge upward. Walter had always instilled courage within me, wanting me to be brave against my brother. In regard to this, having my mentor there would help tremendously. "I'm sure he'll want to carry on with your instruction today. He seems obsessed with combat training lately."

We had made it to the kitchen on the western side of the castle, and the churning in my stomach intensified. Movement caught my eye and I glanced down to see what looked to be a soot-covered chicken hobbling out into the garden. It was a strange sight, but I ignored it. I paused outside the doorway, collecting my strength. Elliot removed his hand from mine and gave me an encouraging smile, squeezing my shoulder. Taking a deep breath in, I walked in.

The chef turned from a group of scullery maids who were obviously discussing something in hushed and urgent tones, and said, "Welcome, your majesty, such an honor to have you here today. The staff has convened to hear your words. Whenever you're ready." I let Elliot's hand go and clasped my own together, placing them in front of me. I tilted my chin up and took a deep breath, like Walter taught me.

"You have all been through some difficult times, and the king has been too… preoccupied to treat you as he should." I swallowed, and continued on, projecting my voice clearly, "But I ask you all to ignore and wild rumors you hear. I promise to speak with my brother about improving conditions for both you and your families outside the castle. Thank you." I finished, and the staff did not say a word, but they smiled and dispersed. I turned to the doorway to see none other but my tutor.

Walter snorted, "You call that a royal speech? You didn't shout, you didn't threaten, and you were far too reasonable." I stepped back, confused by the comment, but he continued with a smirk, "It was bloody marvelous." He chuckled, and I grinned back at him. Walter Beck was a respected member of the castle and was well known for his triumphs as a former soldier. He had aged, his hair turning grey, and had acquired a bit of a gut, but he still looked like he could fight a whole army and was bent on preparing me to be able to do the same. "Right then, ready for today's training?" he walked down the hall and I followed. I was grateful for this kind of expectation. Walter strongly believed I was capable of much more than the superficial duties of the princess of Albion.

"Take good care of her, Walter." Elliot called. Sir Beck waved in response.

"I suppose you've heard the rumors then." Walter sighed. "Well, I'm afraid they're quite true." My stomach dropped, and I felt sickened. "Who knows what your brother will do next. In the meantime, the mood in the castle is getting more uneasy by the day. I think you have a knack for reaching out to people. They all looked up to you back there." He paused then added, "The way they look up to a leader."

We crossed into the main entrance, and a herd of people were gathered by the gate. Most were dressed in middle class attire, but some were obviously lower placed, and gazed about the grand hall with awe. "A lot of people to see your brother today," Walter shook his head, "Poor sods."

A man stood at the front of them, waving at us. He brushed back his chestnut hair, an excited tick no doubt. "Sir Walter! What a stroke of luck! Would you be so kind to sign my petition?" Walter stood in front of the man as he went on a well-rehearsed rant, his eyes sparkling with intensity. "We must fight to eradicate poverty in Albion. Too many suffer on our streets, and the King does nothing. He must be made to care."

The man, who later I learned to be called Lazlo, seemed very passionate about his cause. Walter answered grimly, "Oh, very well, but I'm just an old soldier. I doubt my name would mean anything." Then he turned to me, smirking a bit. "But perhaps the princess here would care to help you out."

As if just noticing I was there, the man stuttered, "Oh, that would be wonderful, your majesty. It would be the greatest honor."

I smiled kindly, "I'd be happy to sign." I took the parchment in hand and scrawled out my signature.

He clutched it to his chest and beamed. "Thank you, my princess. Your support will make all the difference, I'm certain of it." Lazlo backed into the crowd, and I strode towards Walter, who looked approvingly at me.

"That was a courageous move. I doubt it will make much of a difference, but perhaps your brother will finally realize you have a mind of your own." We walked on, and I was proud of my decision. Standing up to my brother has always been an issue with me, and this was the first step to building that courage up. Walter was indeed correct that it was an indirect way to illustrate my personal will and that I was not a mere accessory to the palace. "Let's see you put it to good use in the combat room." Walter said.

The room was tiled and had a roaring fireplace. But along with the priceless décor, there was a weapons rack with a single sword. "You have made good progress these past few weeks, but today isn't about practice. I want you to fight me, as if your life depended on it." I reeled back in confusion. Why on earth would he ask such a thing of me? I could not imagine a scenario where attacking and possibly killing Walter would actually be needed.

But questioning Walter never got me anywhere. I casted an uncertain gaze at the man, but nevertheless picked up the sword. "One day the people of Albion are going to need you. I have to find out just how ready you are." It was not like Walter to be spitting out such things. Especially when they sounded like prophecies. Walter hated things of that nature; he called it "gobbely-gook"

I soon found myself in a battle stance, Walter not five feet from me. My hands were steady, but I was sure my eyes gave away my uncertainty of the situation. I was startled as Walter shouted, "Fight!" I threw the first swing, and it was easily parried. I threw another, and another, and another. Block after block prevented me from gaining access to the inside of his blade. Then the gears started to turn, and I no longer thought of going easy on my old friend, but how to maneuver and get passed his seemingly endless defense.

Instead of doing the predictable right-handed slash. I vaulted to the left, leaving nothing more than a shallow scratch on his bicep. "Ouch... Good hit!" We kept at it, and he reminded me to block, a thing I had always forgotten.

During the fight, he would speak to me, "Do you remember the stories I'd tell you when you were a child? Of your father, the great Hero King?" I nodded as I blocked another incoming assault. "You'd never get tired of hearing those stories. And after each one, do you remember what you would say?"

I swung in and we stood there nose to nose pushing with all our might to throw the other away, as I said, "Teach me how to be a hero."

With the last word I shoved him away, and he wiped his sweat drenched forehead and answered, "Every single time." He looked at me and said sternly, "I wish there was something an old soldier like me could teach you. But I've done my best. Now I need you to do your best."

He backed away and yelled, "Strike me!" I stood there and channeled the rest of my energy. I narrowed my eyes. spun around and used that momentum to drive my sword to the ground. It collided with Walter's and I heard a ring and the clanking of metal on tile. As I stood there gasping, Walter looked proudly at me, holding his now severed blade. "Ha ha! You only went and broke it! Look at that! Am I a great teacher or what?" I gapped at my work, still struggling to catch my breath.

As soon as I regained my composure, Walter's face turned serious. "Listen there's something-"

Suddenly the doors were burst open by a winded Elliot trying to speak, "Walter!" he gasped, "You have to come quickly. Both of you!"

Walter asked, "What's happened?"

"Outside the castle. It looks like a demonstration."

I looked to my mentor and he closed his eyes, "This is not good." He said.

We strode to the main entrance again, and as we approached the large window, Elliot stated, "They're right inside the castle grounds. I've never seen so many people out there." I looked out and he was right. Dozens of commoners stood outside, shouting, shaking their fists angrily, or making other rude gestures.

Walter shook his head, "Balls. I should have known this would happen. I don't think they realize what your brother is capable of. This isn't going to end well." As he gazed out among the citizens in the courtyard he sighed sadly. "It's been a long time since Logan listened to me, but I should find him. Stay here," He said firmly to the two of us. "There's still something we need to talk about."

Elliot pressed a hand to the chilled window. It was then that I noticed the dark rain clouds that had descended on the castle. It was no longer the bright and sunny day Jasper had claimed it to be. It had taken a dark turn for the worst. "I have a horrible feeling about this. We can't just stand here. We need to do something." He glanced at the main stairwell and said in a hushed but urgent voice, "Look, the guards have moved away from the stairs. We should follow Walter, find out what Logan is going to do." Elliot grabbed my arm and started to lead me away, "Let's go while we can."

I was reluctant to follow, but he was right. Some course of action had to be taken. These people had unwittingly placed themselves in path of my brother, and no place was more dangerous. They may have believed that they were fighting for the common good, and they might have been, but they had acted brashly and without proper knowledge of just how far the king had fallen into madness. "They must be in the War Room." I said, running up the stairs, right behind Elliot.

"Then let's get there before anyone sees us." He replied. We arrived at the door to the War Room and Elliot quickly bent over to look through the large brass keyhole. "Quick, you can see them." I hurried forward and looked through too, and what I saw made my stomach curl.

Walter stood there pleading with who I could only guess was my own brother, for he was obscured by the figures of the heavily armored royal guards the king kept at close proximity at all times, "Think about what you're doing, Logan."

Logan answered sharply, "I'm protecting the interests of the people. Do not question me again." The guards shifted, and I was able to see him. The king wore his purple garments with a silver breastplate. His face was like stone, but his mouth twitched, his white scar jutting over the side of his lip looking as though it was shivering with anger. His black leather clad hand pointed to a nearby metal-faced guard, "You will shoot to kill. Start with the ringleaders, and if necessary continue with the crowd."

Walter tried to reach forward, but two soldiers held him back, "This is wrong, you can't do this." Logan made a slight hand gesture and the left guard took the blunt side of his gun and smashed it into the back of my tutor's knee. I bit back a yelp and made myself continue to watch.

My brother seemed unfazed, and looked down at Walter and said darkly, "Never tell me what I can't do." I stared in horror at my sibling's actions against Walter. How could he? Walter had not only been a father figure to me, but to Logan as well. When Father had passed, Walter had guided the mourning adolescent to the throne. How dare he forget.

Elliot turned to me and said anxiously, "We can't let him kill all those people. You're his sister, maybe he'll listen to you." He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked pleadingly into my eyes. "We have to do something."

After a second of thought, I turned and gripped the handle and opened the door roughly. Walter looked up quickly, but my brother turned calmly to me, as if my intrusion was as irritating as it was predictable. "What are you doing here?" He questioned angrily. "The War Room is no place for a child. Leave now."

He started to turn back to a restrained Walter, but I stated firmly, "I'm here to stop you. You can't kill all those people." I stood my ground, even as Logan's eyes burned into me. The dark circles beneath them and his sickly pale complexion foretold his lack of sleep. It was not a recent change, for years he had slowly began to eat less and less, his cheeks becoming hollow. I struggled to remember the brother I once had, one who was happy and joyful.

Walter said desperately, "No, wait…"

But he was cut off by Logan who shouted, "Enough! How dare you turn against me? Perhaps you believe you should be the one making these decisions." He stepped closer to me, and I avoided his eyes, my courage waning. "You really wish to defend those traitors? Then so be it." He raised an open hand then clenched it into a fist. Two soldiers grabbed Eliot and I by our arms, and I decided not to resist. "Let us see how you do. Take my sister and her friend to the throne room. We shall settle this matter officially."

As we were forced into the mostly empty throne room, one of the guards screamed at us to move. Elliot looked over his shoulder and said, "I'm going." He then was shoved to the ground roughly, as if he was nothing but a peasant charged with petty theft.

Immediately I wriggled out of my captors hold and knelt beside him. I glared at the guards and spat, "Leave him alone."

"I'm all right, I'm all right." Elliot assured me.

I took his hand and said softly, "Don't worry. Whatever happens, we'll get through this together." I helped him up, and we kept our fingers interlaced as we approached the throne occupied by my dear brother.

"Here come the saviors of the people," he drawled. "Come closer, sister." I looked back at Elliot who stared after me worriedly. "Today you have disappointed me beyond measure. I have been betrayed by my own blood." He then glared at Elliot and added, "And a filthy spy."

"We did nothing wrong," Elliot started to say.

"Punishment must be apportioned where it belongs." Logan stood up from the throne and stared down at us.

"Punish me then." I said. It was my fault. I shouldn't have signed that petition. It might have been that which gave the people the courage to rally. I felt remorseful towards the situation, yet, I felt no guilt towards helping the people which Logan had so heartlessly abandoned. I did not think myself a saint, nor a hero of the commoners. Just someone who cared for the future of Albion and the lives of its people, as my father did.

My brother's emotionless face looked upon me, "You are no longer a child and it is time I stopped treating you as one." He took slow steps toward me, and continued, "You wished to save the traitors who had gathered outside the castle. Very well. You shall have your chance to save them." He continued to walk down the thrones steps.

"Here stand the leaders of the violent mob," he gestured over to a small group of commoners, no more than seven or eight. Each cowered against one another or shielding the ones they loved from the dark eyes of my brother.

He turned to me again, "I will give you a choice. Who will be punished? These strangers," he then looked over at Elliot, "or this boy. The sentence will be death." I gasped and stood in front of him protectively.

"No… This can't be…" Elliot stuttered in disbelief.

"You are the princess. Decide." Logan said, causing my stomach to twist and my heart to fall to my knees.

Walter stepped forward trying to reason with my insane brother, but even I knew it was futile. "Your majesty. Logan. Please."

"I am giving you power over life and death." He stated firmly. The test of my strength and loyalty tipped at the edge if insanity. My brother wanted me to spill blood, to see and feel what he had done for several years now. He wanted to prove just how tolling the crown could be on the morality of a being, especially when personal aspects were involved. But I cannot. I will not. I was only the princess, and never had I been prepped for anything like this, how could anyone be?

"No… I won't do this." I stated, gripping Elliot's hand tighter.

Logan's tone was harsh, but his eyes held a look of satisfaction, as though he expected nothing more of me, "If you can't decide, I will. They will all be executed." He was very close to me, and I shrank back against Elliot. "So, tell me, what are you willing to sacrifice to do the right thing?"

One of his arms encircled my waist, pulling me closer to him as he spat at Logan, "This is madness," he looked to me again and his eyes softened. "We can't… we just can't…" I glanced away, uncertainty encasing my mind, but Elliot then said, "Choose me." I looked at him in shock. Why would he say such a thing? "You can't let them all die." I closed my eyes, it hurt to hear him say that. I was not prepared for any of this, but most of all I was not prepared to lose him. He placed a hand on my cheek and turned my eyes back to him, "Choose me."

I was forced away from him, as guards dragged him to the other side of the room. I glared at my brother, the one who promised to look after me, and my eyes grew hot with tears of rage. I walked over to the group of people and focused on a women clutching to a man I assumed was her husband. Tears streamed down my face. I hated the people who started the riot. I hated the guard who struck Walter down. I hated Logan who put me in this awful situation. But most of all, I hated myself, because as I was standing by the rioters, I shook my head, as it would be them who would be executed.

I avoided Elliot's gaze, however I could still feel its intensity, the disbelief, and the sure despise. He then pleaded with Logan, "It should be me! Don't do this! It should be me!"

Logan's face remained as cold and devoid of emotion as his statue within the gardens as he delivered the verdict, "The boy lives, kill the rest now." He turned and walked away.

"Please, no!" the woman cried as she stifled a sob.

I stretched out an apologetic hand as they were led away. I turned sharply to Logan and shouted with anger so violent my whole body quivered with rage. "I will _never_ forgive you for this!" Tears still ran down my face, but I did not move to wipe them away. I wanted Logan to feel the heat of my gaze, to feel the anguish of those who would soon be dead. I wanted him in their place.

But he just stood there, calm as he said, "Good, then you will never forget. Escort my sister to her chambers. Now!" I was pulled away, but I never broke my gaze of Logan, and I vowed that I would have vengeance.

Back in my room, I was still seething from the events in the throne room. My hands gripped the feather stuffed sofa in my room, the only intact piece of furniture left. Everything else had been shredded and torn in my fits of anger.

Jasper walked up carefully behind me, far enough away that I wouldn't hurt him if I snapped, not that I ever would. My rage had only one target. "You mustn't blame yourself, madam. I don't think any of us realized just how far he'd fallen into madness."

"I have to do something." I said, "I can't just stay here."

The doors to the garden swung open as a gruff voice said, "You're not." Walter walked in, drenched. "We leave the castle tonight. This kingdom needs nothing less than a revolution. It needs a new leader. It needs a Hero." He stopped, just a few feet behind me. "It's time to see if you're ready."

Now Walter wasn't making any sense. I was all for leaving this wretched place, but where would we go? If the people had heard about the trial, I wouldn't be welcome anywhere. And what was he suggesting with the Hero business? The Hero lineage died out when my father passed. "Ready for what?" I asked.

"To be your Father's daughter." He answered simply. This intrigued me, and I decided no harm would come from following my most trusted advisor.

"Very good. I will pack some essentials." Jasper said, turning to go.

"There's no time, we take nothing." Replied Walter, turning to go back into the pouring rain.

"Not even pajamas?"

"Come on, we must leave now." Walter, Jasper, and I headed out in the thundering night. My dog followed faithfully beside me, and I scratched his head for his loyalty.

"Don't worry madam, I will follow you wherever fate may take us."

Walter sighed sadly, "I should've done something in the throne room. I should've stopped him. Still, maybe I should've taken you away sooner." We ran down the stone steps, flashes of lightning illuminating the gardens for split seconds.

The cold rain made me cringe, but one thing laid heavily on my mind, "What about Elliot?" I couldn't bear to think of Logan torturing him to find where we'd gone.

"Don't worry. He's safe and he can take care of himself." Walter said. I nodded, careful not to let my two companions see the tears forming in my eyes. Elliot most likely hated me, feeling that I had betrayed him in a way. But I'd rather have his loathing than to see him at the wrong end of a firing squad.

Thunder crashed, seeming to shake the very ground we walked on. "There's something rather sinister about this garden at night." Jasper said, trying to mask the fear in his voice, as if this statement was just an observation rather than an excuse to go back.

"Where are we going?" I asked confused, "I thought we were leaving the castle." We were obviously heading deeper and deeper into the palace gardens.

"We are," Walter assured me, "But there's something we must do first." This answered no questions, and actually unearthed more, but I decided now was not the time. We were nearing the end of the gardens, and I followed Walter up to the entrance of my father's tomb. Understanding slowly crept up on me, but I did not focus on it. Now was indeed not the time.

As I approached the large engraved doors, Walter spoke in a grim tone, "It's time we paid our respects to Albion's last Hero."

"I'd never thought I'd enter this place again." Jasper said, matching Walter's same tone.

"You should've known better."

Once inside the tomb, I began to come to terms with what was happening. Panic began to swell in my chest, and I started to doubt every decision I had made. Ever. I then realized I needed to calm down. I began to think about what was happening, in a clearer fashion. I am princess of Albion. My brother is King, and a corrupted one at that. He made me choose between the lives of my love, and of a group of peasants. I had chosen Elliot. I am now on the run with Walter and Jasper.

My shoes clacked on the stone floor, and my dogs padded feet moved noiselessly, however, his panting gave away his existence. It was moist, the walls were covered in moss and dew, and the air musty and stale. It suited an ancient corridor that had not been open in many years. It was quite cold but having Jax next to me provided warmth enough.

"The night your father died," Walter began. "I promised him I would bring you here one day, when you were old enough and strong enough." He glanced back at me, "This is your history. This is your legacy."

Walter and I walked up the stone steps, and up to two golden coffins; one belonging to my father and one to my mother. "The world has been too long without a Hero. But I'm hoping that it will have one soon."

Over to the right, Walter felt around against some bricks. He settled his hand on one and pushed. I watched as the brick sank into the wall and the hands of the praying woman statue in front of me descended. And in her hands was metal circle. I had seen the markings on it somewhere, but I couldn't remember the exact location.

"This is your Father's most treasured possession. The Guild Seal." The name clicked, and a memory resurfaced. It was when I was just a small child. Logan and I were playing in the throne room, and my father and mother were talking. He had said the name, and that was all I could remember.

"It choses those who have the power inside them," Walter continued. "those who have the potential to become legends. Take it." I stepped forward and gripped it tightly picking it up. It only weighed a few pounds, light considering its size.

I held it for a few seconds then asked, "Is something supposed to happen?" Then it started to shake, and I could feel the power coursing through it. All of a sudden, my vision was engulfed in a white light. And I was no longer in the tomb.

I found myself on a strand of rock. I stood on a metal plate with the seal's design engraved upon it. An iron wrought gate enclosed the path ahead of me. I looked around quickly for Jax, but he seemed to not venture with me to this mysterious place. Neither did Walter, nor Jasper. I was completely on my own.

Then I saw her.

She was clothed in a tattered red robe, a matching hood drawn over her head. The features of her face that were not covered held a preserved look, making it difficult to pinpoint her age. I could not see her eyes, but I was sure they were blind. Her hands and fingers were decorated with jewelry, fit for a gypsy, but she seemed far more powerful than that.

"Who are you?" I asked, searching for answers to provide any inkling of where I was and, more importantly, why I was transported here.

"I am Theresa. The Seer of the Spire. I guided your father in his greatest triumph. But you have an even greater destiny ahead of you." She replied. "The seal awoke at your touch, as it would at no one else's." I looked down at my hands to find no seal in them. "This means Albion's fate rests on your shoulders."

"Before you lies the path you were born to take." She said motioning to the winding stretch beyond the gate. "And at its end, is the kingdom you were born to rule." Prophecies were never anything I took heed to. I took Walter's view on them and thought those who delivered them were mad. But, for some strange reason I could not name, I trusted this woman.

She continued on, "Like all Heroes, you will face many trials. But you cannot pass through these gates alone." I now saw there were many gates along the path. "You will need to gather followers and gain the support of the people."

Theresa smiled and said, "For now, you have the support of two friends; Jasper, who will serve you always, and Sir Walter Beck, who will be your greatest ally." I nodded, following so far. "Together you have already taken the first step in your journey. Walk through the gate and claim your reward."

And she vanished; my father's guide was there, then, suddenly gone. The gates had also creaked open, on the other side a lone wooden chest. I carefully walked up to it, unlatched it, and opened it wide, the hinges creaking as though it had been left untouched for several centuries. My prize was a silver gauntlet, with the emblem of a fiery blaze.

"There is a great power inside you," Theresa's mystic voice rang out, but as I glanced around, she was nowhere to be found. "You merely lack the means to unleash it. Equip it." I followed her instruction and slid it on to my right hand. It was a perfect fit.

Theresa continued to speak inside my head, "The gauntlet will channel the magic within you. Use it by the tomb in the mausoleum, and the way out of the castle will be open to you. You will return here when you have gathered enough followers."

'Now go," her voice began to grow faint. "Walter and Jasper will follow wherever you lead. And one day, perhaps the rest of Albion will do so too." Near the next gate, a white shimmering veil opened, and as I walked through it, my vision was covered by the same whiteness as before.

My vision returned, and I found myself back in the tomb, the seal gone, but the gauntlet still encased my right hand. Walter was by my side and Jasper not too far back, a hand buried in the fur of my pet. My mentor looked at me expectantly, "Well?" he asked. "Do you feel any different?" He then caught eye of the new piece of equipment I had acquired, his eyebrows furrowing.

"I don't know." I said. Aside from the new weight on my right hand, I felt normal, apart from the unusualness of everything.

Walter frowned for a moment, then said, "Try casting a spell. That's supposed to be our only way of getting out of here."

Jasper scowled, "You might've mentioned that earlier."

"And spoil the surprise?" Walter chuckled.

I understood the severity of this moment. If we were unable to continue through the tomb, we would be finished. I imagined that a guard had already discovered the absence of Jasper and I from my room and alerted Logan. It was most likely that above us the alarm bells were ringing wildly as the King's royal guard searched the entire grounds to find the runaway princess and her butler.

I pushed this from my mind and took a large inhale, focusing my energy on the gauntlet. My eyes were closed, but I could not miss the tingling of warmth spreading throughout my entirety, as though a literal fire resided in my blood, in my very essence. I raised my hands into the air, and then pushed down with all my might. I opened my eyes just in time to see a ring of fire emitting from around me.

The seal glowed and the two stone plates that supported my parents, moved aside. A downward slope was shone leading into a dark corridor.

"It bloody worked!" Walter chortled, "You really are a Hero!" He gave a strong pat on the back and Jax wagged his tail happily, mirroring my mentor's excitement.

Jasper declared, "I never doubted it for a second." I gave him a grateful smile. Theresa was undoubtedly right about one thing, Jasper would always be at my side.

"Well of course, neither did I," Walter defended. "still though… it bloody worked!" We descended into the corridor, Walter taking the lead, Jasper right behind him, and Jax and me bringing up the rear. The dusty stone walls irritated my lungs, which had encountered only the air of luxurious rooms. Jasper, too, was affected by the new surroundings, evident by his frequent coughing fits into his handkerchief, apologizing after each one.

My mentor was not all that steady in the unfamiliar territory as well. "Somewhat narrow, isn't it?" he said distastefully. "Dark too." He was quite right. The only light source was the torch he carried, and it was burning low, the flames twisting our own shadows into menacing creatures etched upon the cramped walls.

Jasper spoke, his voice echoing off the rock walls. "You never did care for confined spaces, did you, Sir Walter?"

"I never did care for being poked in the eye or having my head chopped off. What of it?"

"Oh dear, I seem to have struck a nerve!"

"How about if I strike a butler on the head?"

The small rock passage eventually led into a magnificently large cavern. It was decorated with stalagmites, the roof looking like large dragon teeth dangled from it. "Ah, now this is more like it!" exclaimed Walter. "Grand, spacious, a plentiful supply of oxygen. Just the way a castle escape route should be."

"I hesitate to ask, but what is our plan?" questioned Jasper. "Other than leaving the castle far behind us, which I wholly approve of, obviously."

Walter answered, "It's simple. We have to stop Logan."

I slowed my pace for a moment, but decided it would be better to keep moving, however, the pressure his words placed upon my shoulders caused me to stumble. My dog looked up, whining in concern. "How am I supposed to do that?" I asked, desperately wanting answers. I had grown tired of standing by, waiting for the opportune time to speak up. The gods know how long I had done that with my brother. A few years back, I awoke every morning to rehearse what I would say to Logan, the words, the tone, the hand gestures. I could never build my courage up high enough, and even when I did, the opportunity to speak with him was snatched away. Now, I was done waiting idly by, but I could not lead a revolution. "Even if I am a Hero, I'm just one person."

"Exactly," Walter said. "That is why we need to find allies. Once you prove who you are, people will follow you, and many of them will be willing to fight." He stopped a moment and looked at me, it was the same gaze that held both the belief of promise within me, and also pity that he had borne within the combat room, before Elliot had rushed in. "But they need a leader. Someone to believe in. Albion needs nothing less than a revolution." We pushed onward, and I continued to ponder those words, and the weight of responsibility they implied.

As we were venturing through, I could hear the faint flapping of wings through the cavern. Then Jasper shouted, "Bats! Take cover!" Sure enough, dozens of the winged creatures were flying directly at us.

"Well, young Hero," Walter grinned. "This is your chance to show us what you've got." He unsheathed his sword and began slashing the air. Hurling fireballs at the bats, I felt a rush of satisfaction as each blaze of light found its desired target.

"Excellent!" Walter exclaimed after a final fire sphere burnt the remaining two to a crisp. "Did you see that Jasper? Did you see it?"

"Indeed. Your father would've been proud."

"Well I know I am." beamed Walter. "And I'm proud of you too, old friend. I've never seen a man cower with such grace." He smirked as he led the way.

"It is merely a matter of hygiene," Jasper protested. "Bats are filthy creatures."

Walter laughed, "Anyway, I think we've just seen the first proof of what you can do. You are the Hero who can lead this land in a revolution. Bats are just the beginning." Silence hung in the air, for I struggled for the words to say. We reached a small stream in the cavern when Walter shouted, "More bats! Get ready to cast some magic."

And cast I did. The little pests were gone in a few seconds, though Jaspers flailing arms did nothing to help. When they were all gone, he was quick to straighten his clothing and cough, "Another impressive display madam. To think," he pondered. "this morning my job consisted of laying out clothes for royalty. Now I'm a midnight snack for bats." Jax barked and playfully nibbled at his shoe.

"You'll get used to it." Walter chuckled, and I laughed aside with him, much to Jasper's distaste. "You might want to cover your noses from here on. It's the Bowerstone Sewers." I immediately raised my arm to my nose. Bowerstone Industrial was a slimy pungent city above ground, and I could only imagine what it was like below it.

Jasper sighed, "Very well."

" _You_ might want to cover your eyes. More bats!" I laughed again, enjoying that bit of relief from the impending seriousness of it all. I was getting a lot of practice with magic. I had discovered that if you channel it for a while, the area the flames would travel would increase. It still amazed me how well I, someone who was raised in wealth and privilege, was adapting to all of this.

"Well you've certainly got the hang of that spell, shall we proceed?" I nodded and rushed ahead, only breathing through my mouth.

"Uhg what an unusual stench," Jasper gagged. "I dare say we must be directly under Bowerstone Industrial."

"Very likely. Not the safest place for us right now, but we should be able to find a way out of the city once we reach the surface." We passed under a rock arch, and then what we found on the other side was quite peculiar.

It was a small balcony, which looked over the rest of the cavern. But along the sides, there were large pillars, obviously man made. Did my father do it himself? Would he risk workers knowing of the "secret" passage? Those who had built it were most likely dead or dying, but the chance of them passing the secret on to their children still existed.

"It appears to be a dead end." Jasper said, and I assumed him to be right.

"Not quite." Walter countered. I then noticed a round plate which looked to be the same as the one with Theresa on the Road to Rule with the designs of the Guild Seal engraved upon it.

"What is that?" I asked.

Walter thought for a moment then answered, "I'm pretty sure it's a cullis gate. Sort of magical transportation system for Heroes."

"I was under the impression that cullis gates were all gone." Jasper said, looking intently at the metal disc.

"Well it looks like there's one left at least. Your father must have placed one here in case he ever needed to use it."

"It's the same symbol that we saw by the tomb," Jasper observed. "Do you suppose it's activated the same way?"

"Well there's only one way to find out."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jasper was correct. The seal glowed at the very touch of Hero magic. But I had no idea on where it would take me. "We will have plenty of time to explore this place later," Walter said, clearly noticing my interest in the pillars against the wall. "Right now, we have a rather large task ahead of us."

"But I don't even know where to start!" I exclaimed desperately.

Walter nodded, "Our first stop will be the mountains of Mistpeak. There are people there who will make great allies. They won't offer their allegiance easily, but they despise Logan. And if anyone can persuade them, it's a Hero."

Before I casted the spell, Walter whispered in my ear, "Try to only focus your mind on the Dweller Camp. Any thought of another place and we might lose a limb or two, or someone entirely." I nodded sharply and closed my eyes and tried to recall what I had heard from Logan about the mountain village.

It was where most of Logan's enemies resided. It was a harsh and frigid landscape, and many who had taken shelter there lived in extreme poverty. I was not too keen on visiting such a dreary and depressed place, but if Walter claimed it would be where we would gain our first followers, it was something I was more than willing to do.

Their leader was a man named Sabine. There were many tales of his conquest and his mercilessness on the battlefield. He was rumored to be a great ally and close friend of my father's but was banished when Logan claimed the throne. The stories end there, leaving the fact that he retreated into Mistpeak to try and protect his people from Logan's tyranny the last surely known thing. No one knows what state he is in now, or just what he is planning against the King.

I do not know when I released the spell, or what exactly happened with the cullis gate. I only remember a blur over my vision lifting, and me finding myself, along with Jasper, Walter, and my faithful companion, in a small valley in a large mountain range. Snow drifts pilled against tall pine trees, and the air was so cold and crisp, it made your lungs ache with each inhale. I could feel the frost nip at my nose, and the price of my clothing did nothing to repel the chill.

I gazed across the valley and saw many rustic caravans. Men, women, and children huddled near small fires for warmth. I could hear moaning, coughing, and cries, in so many directions I could not pin point one place of origin. But even in the echoes of pain and sorrow, the people kept solemn and emotionless faces. It hurt to see even the small ones grown so accustomed to such agony.

I casted a worried look to Walter who only nodded and pointed across the village to large wooden doors that led to an area lined with tall wooden poles that would not permit me to see what lie inside. Jasper said quietly, "I'll take Jax to the edge of the village that way you and Walter can do what you must." I nodded and asked him to be careful. He smiled softly and answered with wanting me to do the same.

Walter and I began to make our way down a small foot trodden path. "Brr. I'd forgotten how bloody cold it is up here." He shivered. "Come on." He urged as I had stopped to help a trembling woman who lay asleep near a pile of stone cold embers.

"The people here call themselves Dwellers. They're tough." explained Walter. "But they are also loyal. And, like I told you, they hate Logan's guts." He glanced toward a man feverously chewing on what appeared to be the bones of a small animal and sighed. "It may not look like much, but this is where the revolution begins." He said, grimacing.

"This is what Logan has reduced them to. He's taken control of these mountains and started destroying these forests. I knew they would have a hard time finding food," we glanced over to a woman bent over in pain, holding her stomach. "But I had no idea it was this bad."

We arrived in front of the gates and the former soldier turned to me and stated, "The man we need to convince is Sabine. Proud old sod, but a good man and a good leader. He won't give his loyalty to anyone, especially to a princess. Perhaps it's better if I speak to him alone first." He said, not meaning any disrespect.

Walter thought for a second and added, "You know, maybe you ought to find some new clothes while I talk to Sabine. Something slightly less… regal. We don't need this kind of attention." I nodded, the dwellers would not respect someone dressed so expensively, especially while they were penniless. There was also the fact that my clothes were not suited for the alpine weather, and I needed proper warmth, or I was risking frostbite. Walter pulled out a small, blue, cloth bag with a drawstring to keep it shut. "I only have a little bit of gold," he said solemnly, "But, it should be enough, and maybe you could spread what is left among the people. They need it more than we do." Walter concluded.

He handed it to me, the clinking of gold coins causing the heads of the Dwellers to pop up and look towards where we stood. "Where could I find clothes?" I asked, turning back towards Walter to avoid the desperate eyes of the villagers around me.

"Oh, don't worry," Walter said chuckling a bit at the twitching hands of the people who slowly crept toward me. "You'll find someone willing to take that money off you. Now, wish me good luck." I did, and one door creaked open just enough for Walter to squeeze through. I took a big breath a turned around to face the Dwellers.

They surprisingly kept their distance, but their eyes never left my hand where I held the gold in a death grip. I soon found a caravan where a man was trying to sell an outfit for a woman about my size. It was obviously made from animal fur with amateur hands, but it would do. I paid the man a total of three hundred gold, and he looked as though he might faint. Whether it was from the either fact that he would be able to eat or that he had not done so in some time, I did not know. He thanked me and clutched the coins to his chest. I smiled graciously and went into a nearby caravan and closed the curtains and changed.

The outfit consisted of dark brown wool breaches, and a large coat. The main material for the coat was, again, wool but along the front was a warm fur lining. The same fur was used on matching woolen gloves. Boots were given, and I slipped them on hastily to keep my toes from falling off. I then retied my hair into a long braid, going for more convenience rather than style. The clothes definitely weren't fashionable, but for warmth and comfort they were spot on.

Walking back to the gates, I could see pairs of people huddled together, whispering furiously. I could only hear bits of the conversations but from what I heard, they were curious, angry, or pleading for help. One I focused intently on, pretending to adjust the large belt that had been given to me. "… is that her… I haven't eaten in days… why's she here… a lot of gold… if I eva' get my hans' on Logan I'll wring 'is neck, provided I ave' any left…"

I looked at my boots guiltily and only glanced up when I felt a slight tug on my pants. A little girl stood in front of me. She couldn't be over the age of six, her face smudged with dirt and soot, and her light blonde hair fell messily around her shoulders. She looked up and smiled weakly, but it still captured my heart. "You haven't got any food, do you? My tummy hurts, and my mummy says she can't get up…" I bent down and looked her in the eyes. They were a dynamic hazel, and they held so much hope, despite the current circumstances.

I reached into the pouch and withdrew three small coins. Her face lit up and she squealed, "Thank you! Thank you so much!" she ran off yelling, "Mummy! Mummy!" I grinned after her, watching her all the way back to her caravan. I then noticed the whole village was left gaping at me. Instead of avoiding their eyes like I had done previously, I smiled warmly, welcoming them near me.

I gave money to many of the villagers, who never took more than they needed, always giving back some coins when I gave too much. There was a woman who, when given the money, said with tears in her eyes, "You are not your brother, and I thank you for that." I was touched, and suddenly, I knew that this was what I was to do for the world. This was my destiny.

I made it back to the gates where Walter stood looking proudly at me, my canine friend sitting beside him, obviously abandoning Jasper to have a look around the new surroundings, wagging his tail when he saw me. "That's more like it!" he said, admiring my new attire. "The scruffy look suits you." I smiled, giving a little twirl. He laughed, and I joined along with him.

"I've spoken to Sabine, explained everything and he's… well, I told you he'd take some convincing." I frowned slightly. I knew this would happen, but I could not help not getting my hopes up. "Come on." Walter motioned me to follow, I took a big breath and followed him inside the gated area.

I walked in to see a large platform area with the largest man I have ever seen. He nearly reached seven feet tall and had hands that could crush a human skull with just the tiniest squeeze. He wore Dweller clothes and a hat that covered his eyes. He had a large mustache that twitched as he made a low growling sound. His arms were crossed menacingly, and I worried that this would not go my way.

"Out of the way Boulder, I can't see a thing" a small voice piped. The giant stepped out of the way and I saw the real Sabine. He was thin with age, and a he had a full grey beard and mustache. He wore colorful pantaloons and a bright yellow and purple hat to match. He held in his frail hand a thin walking stick with the end twisted around a round purple vial. Although his age was apparent, his eye's held hellfire that indicated his ferocity and perhaps a bit of insanity.

Sabine sat up from his makeshift throne eyeing me skeptically, "So royalty walks into our home. A princess no less. You're a long while from the castle, _Princess_." He spat, only inches from my face. "How do you like our home then? Do you like what your brother has done to us?" I glanced pleadingly toward Walter who stood near the gate, but Sabine continued his rant. "These mountains have always been ours. Now Logan's taken them and is stripping them of all life. Oh, we're ready to go to war, but why should we follow Logan's kin?" He questioned, hands crossed over his tiny chest.

"You can trust me." I said. "You have my word-"

"Ha! We don't take much stock in word 'round these parts. We're simple folk. Ain't that right Boulder?" Sabine looked toward his bodyguard who grumbled in agreement. I saw Jax take much interest in the large man, and Boulder bent down and patted his head, careful not to injure him in the process.

"Then what do you want?" I asked Sabine testily.

The small man leaned in to my face and said simply, "Proof." I took a step back and looked at him questioningly. "First, prove that you are truly, what Walter claims, a Hero. This is easily done. There is a secret chamber beneath the town of Brightwall built by your own father. Only Heroes can survive its trials and reach the relics within. Bring me one of these ancient objects and I will believe you."

I nodded. "Second, prove you are a warrior worthy of leading us into battle. You can do this by slaying the mercenaries who plague Mistpeak Valley and who have long soured our existence. Third, prove you are a true leader. Persuade our neighbors in Brightwall to share what food they have with us."

Sabine turned sharply to his bodyguard whose face was getting a tongue bath from my Jax, "Boulder." He said disapprovingly, and Boulder grumbled sadly as he stood up. Sabine turned his attention to me and continued, "If we cannot eat, we will die. And the dead make poor allies."

"Is that all?" I asked.

"Yup. That's the lot. Off you go. Good luck, nice knowing you." He added hastily stuffing a wooden pipe into his mouth. I smiled at his concluding sentence and turned around, motioning for Jax to follow. "Come on boy." He trailed behind me faithfully, but casted a sad glance back to his new friend who waved him goodbye.

Walter and I retreated out of the gated area and heard the wooden doors slam behind us. "It's nice to see Sabine hasn't mellowed with age." He chuckled. "But anyway, I know the place he mentioned. Your father built the chamber under the Brightwall Academy, Albion's greatest seat of learning. At least it was, until Logan closed it down." Walter seemed to be lost in thought for a moment but snapped back quickly.

We were heading toward the edge of the camp now, and some of the children waved farewell to us. "Just show the old librarian your guild seal. He'll know what it means. I'll try to find out more about these mercenaries. I'll see you in Brightwall when I have some more information."

We stopped at a wooden bridge and Walter shook his head. "You might as well take Jax along with you, he'll insist on coming anyways. And don't you worry, I'll make sure Jasper will arrive safely at Brightwall." Walter chuckled slightly, "In fact, I'll see to it myself."

Mistpeak Valley stretched far across Albion, full of hidden caves and feral animals. None had attempted, or succeeded in the least, to tame this harsh landscape, and most of it went unexplored. The ground of the northern end was permanently covered in a thick white blanket, though it never actually snowed. Some say that the snow dated back to the Old Kingdom, and the constant freezing temperature had never given it the opportunity to melt. Then again, they also told how small forest sprites lurk in the snow, waiting to bite the toes off wandering travelers.

I chuckled softly, pulling my coat in around me, looking up at the cover of clouds, refusing the warmth of the sun to slip through. Jax yelped in joy, feverishly lapping up the tiny ice crystals, burying his snout into a mound of it. When he withdrew it, he had a small pile on the edge of his nose which he shook off in annoyance. I laughed and gave him a pat on the head. Brightwall should just be down the mountain and southwest a bit. I knew to be alert, for who knew what else was out there.

About a half mile after, I looked ahead, and saw a large pack of black wolves positioned at the end of the small trail, all heads perked and lips drawn. Snarls and growls filled the air, as each one stood up and began slinking toward us. Jax's scruff was on end and bore the same look of aggression.

It was not long before the whole pack was a mere five feet away. The largest one sat back on his haunches, then leaped forward, teeth snapping. I did the only thing that felt natural. I pushed my right hand forward, and felt the fire leave it in one condensed ball.

It collided with the beast in midair, causing a shriek of pain to fill the air along with the stench of burning fur. The beast whimpered and slumped in the snow, the fire that had caught small hairs fizzled out. Jax took this opportunity and bounded after his kin, teeth tearing into the matted neck.

I had possessed a small dagger from another caravan shop back at the Dweller Camp, and with that aid we had finished the group of wolves quickly. Jax pressed his body to my legs, scanning the wooded area for any more potential threats. It was discomforting seeing the sweet dog I had raised since a pup overcome with such a sense of ferocity when protecting me. It sobered me to see the life I would now lead.

As we proceeded further down the slope of the mountain, the snow began to fade away, and small sprouts of grass revealed themselves. We continued to run southwest, the howls behind us urging us to expedite our journey as much as possible. Soon we reached the outermost part of the town, and I took a sharp inhale. Brightwall was nothing like the large and elaborate palace I had been raised in, but it was quaint, and held its own unique elegance.

There was a large bridge leading to the entrance of the town, deteriorating with age, large chunks of the wall broken off into the slow-paced river below. Tall stone walls surrounded the perimeter of the town with two large doors wide open, giving access into its center. Shortly after passing through the wooden gates, I spotted Walter and Jasper near what was titled Ye Quill & Quandary Pub. They stood near a black stage coach, speaking to the driver who sat upon the bench over the reins. As I approached, Walter sighted me, nudging Jasper to turn my way, then heading inside the upper level of the inn. "Ah, Princess!" my former butler called,

I gave him a bright smile, and when close enough, questioned, "How did you arrive before me? Did you have any problems with the wolves?"

His eyes widened in timidity, "Wolves? Oh, heavens no, just the thought…" he shivered, then returned to the conversation, "No madam we managed to come across this fellow here, Jonathan was it?" the driver nodded, eyeing me suspiciously. "He was kind enough to allow us a ride here, he is a traveling merchant you see, and fortunately for us, Brightwall was his next destination."

I nodded and turned to Jonathan, "Well, here then," I tossed him the blue bag of coins which he caught. "Thank you for the safe passage for my friends." He bowed his head. After a pause he opened his mouth to say something, but apparently thought best to not, then cracked the reins, riding out of the town.

"My dear lady, this is Brightwall," Jasper stretched his arms wide, motioning to the entirety of the settlement. "A most charming little Hamlet, and a good opportunity to acquaint yourself with the good, honest people of the kingdom, far from the bustle of the city and the factory smoke. Of course, a less charitable mind would term them," he lowered his voice to avoid offending anyone as he said, "simpletons, but I encourage you to shop in their stores, drink in their taverns, and, otherwise, partake in their small-town pleasures."

"If you need Sir Walter and me, we shall be in the inn. But before you go, he requested that I give you these." He presented something concealed in a tan blanket which I unfolded to reveal a double-bladed sword with leather wrapping along this hilt. At the very end of it, there was the emblem of the crown, and my breath caught. "It was your father's. It served him well in battle, and it will do the same for you with whatever you may encounter lying beneath the library."

I sheathed the sword in the provided hilt that was now strapped at my waist. "Thank you, Jasper. I should make my way there now."

"Oh! Wait one more thing. Well, two, actually." He pulled out the guild seal from his pocket. "It appeared in my coat when we reached the dweller camp. I figured it would aid you more than me." I smiled taking it from his hand. "And here, I hate carrying such things." He handed me a small pistol. I thanked him once again and turned to find the library.

I asked around, the friendliness of the villagers making it easy to obtain directions to the building. At the farthest edge of the town was the largest stone building within leagues. Its cathedral like structure casted a wide spread shadow over its courtyard, which was empty. Even the elaborate fountain placed at its center was bone dry and cracked with age and disuse. Wooden double doors marked the entrance into the library, and, after telling Jax to stay, for he could not accompany me into the library, I took a large breath before pushing it open, the hinges creaking.

The interior was dismal to say the least. Cobwebs hung from the bookcases, and decaying novels and bibliographies were strewn about. The air was musty and cold. I walked to what was the main desk, where an ancient man was, flipping through a large book illuminated by a lone candle.

Without looking up he spoke, "The library is closed by order of the King." He flipped to another page and spoke again tiredly, "We don't serve drinks. We don't sell chicken feed. Please leave before the soldiers suspect you are gaining any real knowledge." I cleared my throat. He looked up and his face turned into surprise as he straightened his clothes and brushed back his greying hair. "Sweet papayas! A real visitor! I-I'm afraid I was speaking the truth. King Logan has closed the Academy. I'm little more than a custodian these days." He said sadly, looking around at the empty halls of learning.

Without speaking I pulled out the guild seal and presented it to him. He stumbled back in shock, resting a hand on his chest. "By the holy bookmark! The guild seal!" he placed his reading glasses on his crooked nose and peered down at the emblem. "I haven't seen it since the old Hero King last came here. Then you are…?" he asked looking at me confused.

"The princess, yes." I stated.

"Oh my." He whispered. He turned toward the back of the library and spoke, "Please, come this way." He began to make his way deeper into the library, maneuvering around fallen books and discarded ink bottles. "Your father told me that one day a challenger bearing the seal would come seeking entrance to the Reliquary. But I never imagined it would happen in _my_ lifetime."

We turned into room that had no mess and seemed untouched by age and wear. The librarian continued to speak, "It was he who founded the Academy of course. I have often wondered how he would react to see it in its present state."

Before us stood a great cast iron door with many locks and hinges upon it. It stretched to the ceiling on the room and put the massive bookcases to shame. The old man turned to face me, clasping his frail hands in front of him. "Here we are. I can't tell you how many of our researchers and professors have studied this door, hoping to unlock its mechanism. But I knew there was only one thing that would ever open it."

I ran my hand along the door, finding a circular indent large enough to place the guild seal into. I took it from my pocket and pushed it into the hole. Once it was set in, the gears began to turn, and the metal knobs began to move, the door soon swinging back, revealing a long staircase receding into darkness. I took a burning torch from nearby and stepped carefully down the steps.

The underground corridors were indescribable. The structures closely resembled the pillars in the escape route, no doubt my father's touch. I tried to step quietly, but my footfalls rang out on the dusty stone floor. I traveled alone through the expansive underground caverns. Soon I came upon a large gap between the floor I stood on and the structure across a chasm. I looked down unable to see the bottom, for a heavy mist was settled above it.

Abruptly a flying metal disc appeared before me, flying from the seemingly endless cavern roof above. Upon it was an engraving of a sword. After pondering its meaning for a minute or so, wondering how this would lead me across the large expanse before me, I unsheathed my sword, and swung it at the floating object. A loud clang sounded throughout, one of metal on metal, echoing off the cavern walls. Soon a rock walking path slid out from underneath my, giving access to the other side.

Reaching the next structure, I spotted a large group of single blue lights. The reminded me of the fairy lights that would be strung up in the castle gardens on holidays and other such occasions, beautiful and enchanting. As I approached closer, I could hear faint whispering, unintelligible, muddled, like they were passing through some sort of barrier.

It then struck me what in fact these things were. In the old books, they speak of the spirits of those who died and were not absolved from this world, leaving behind traces of their soul. They were called Wisps, and harbored only hatred and anger, seeking a way to return to the mortal world through the occupation of a host, living or not.

My heart thudded, I took another careful step forward, and one wisp dove down to the ground. I heard a shaking sound, and soon, a skeletal hand shot through the chipped stone floor, grasping for something. Then another came up, and soon a whole decayed body was heaving itself up out of the hole. I then knew what exactly this place was. It was a tomb.

The figure was mostly bones, though ripped clothing rested upon it. I could see the wisp within the cranium, controlling the should-be inanimate skeleton. It clutched in its hands two planters' rakes, and three arrows stuck out from the back, two in the shoulder blade, and one in the skull.

It rushed at me, and I clutched my sword in hand, my torch laying forgotten beside me. It raised the rake to slash down, but I parried it, shoving it down at the floor, it stumbled then swung at me again, towards my mid-section. I jumped back, avoiding its sharp edges then sliced my sword, decapitating the skull from the spinal cord. I heard a grumbled sound from behind me and turned to find another raised body armed with a scythe raising its arms high. I cut one off and the blade fell to the ground, along with the dismembered arm. I took a diagonal swing and the rotting thing exploding into flying bones and dust.

More and more wisps flew down, animating the corpses, and continuingly I fought to put them back into their final resting places. Once the final hollow man was down, I wiped my sweat drenched forehead. I knew this place was not safe, so I ran forth, trying to find the relic as soon as possible.

I continued through staircases, halls, and cavernous passages, watching wearily for more of the damned creatures. After passing through fallen rubble, there was another rocky cliff with no visible way to the stone platform ahead. Then, another metal disc shot through the air and placed itself fifty meters away, hovering. I looked to my waist and saw my pistol hanging there. I drew it and aimed at the disc. The first shot I missed, the shot being the only other noise in the cavern. I huffed and took aim again, taking longer to position and squeezing the trigger slowly.

It was a direct hit, and immediately, from the fog covered bottom of the chasm rose a stone staircase. I climbed it cautiously, making sure not to miss a step. But once my foot hit the other platform, another set of hollow man burst forth from the cavern wall. Without missing a step, I decapitated and dismembered the animated corpses, pushing the ones I could into the dark depths below.

I ran farther into the darkness of the Reliquary. Later, I was faced with a gaping hole in the cavern floor. I stopped and listened, able to hear the sound of rippling water beneath. I prepared myself, the leapt down, the water below cushioning my fall. I swam to the end where a massive gold circular door waited for me. I sighed at my father's many safety precautions to guard this relic. It must have indeed been powerful for him to have placed so many.

Upon the floor was another metal platelet engraved with the guild seal. I stood upon it and closed my eyes, channeling the will of my body into my gauntlet. I pushed my open palm towards the door, the fireball hitting it square in the middle. It rolled away, leaving another passage way into the depths of the cavern open.

The cavern twisted on, and I traveled for what seemed an eternity, finding small groups of wisps along the way. Each time their hosts tried to kill me, and each time they failed. I was starting to give up hope on ever finding the buried treasure that my father had left here. But after defeating a particularly ferocious horde of hollow men, I stumbled upon one lone staircase leading to a raised platform, with a single solitary beam of light casted upon a podium.

My heart swelled, knowing this to be the great and fabled relic of the Reliquary. I journeyed forth, excitement quickening my pace. As I approached I heard the sweet sound of music, one that awakened memories from my childhood. When I reached the platform, I found that it was indeed a music box. Confusion and anger coursed through me. All of this, these hollow men, the tests and safety measures over a child's toy?

I picked it up, ready to hurl it away when a veil of white clouds my vision and a familiar voice speaks inside my head. "You have done well. Now," Theresa says. The white lifts, but the world around me is grey and black seeming surreal and out of focus. A curtain of bright light lies before me. "Step into the light. There is much you need to know." I walked forward and am again engulfed in white.

I stood upon the Road to Rule, Theresa in front of me, and the relic in my hands. She gave a small smile and said, "Congratulations hero. Touching the guild seal was an indication of what you could become, reaching the music box has proven what you already are. No one but a hero could have done it." I grinned. She continued, "You have begun to learn what powers you possess, and there is still greater potential within you. But you have only taken the first step in your journey.

"Albion is crying out for a revolution. For someone to lead it. Winning supporters for your cause will be hard. Leading them against Logan will be an even greater challenge, but it is one you must accomplish."

Filled with resentment and hate, I vowed, "I'll make him pay for what he did."

"This is not a matter of personal vengeance. As long as your brother sits on the throne Albion is in great danger." Theresa motioned to the relic in my hands. "Open the music box. It will show you the truth." I looked at her uncertainly, and then twisted the knob three times. The top opened and a light shot out of it, then… black.

I see the war room within the castle, but I am not physically there. The curtains are closed and only a few candles are burning. Logan stands there, looking over the map, leather clad gloves clasped behind his back. Dark shadows are casted across my brother's face, twisting it into one etched with malicious intent. He speaks softly, "This is my Albion. Its cities will bow to my law… or they will burn. Its mountains will bend to my will, or they _will_ fall." He runs his hand along the side of the map and whispers. " _This is my Albion._ " He removes his hand and continues to circle it. "Its people will do as I say, or they will die. Its future will be as I decree, or it will end."

He turns from it, continuing to speak to himself. "I have seen what must be done, and nothing will stand in my way. We will be greater, and we will be stronger, no matter what sacrifices we must make." He turns back to the map, resting both hands on the edge, gazing over the world like a god. "This is my Albion, and I would see it destroyed before I surrender it."

I then only saw black, and suddenly, I was back with Theresa, the music box gone from my hand. She spoke, "If any part of you still doubted the necessity of a revolution, you have your answer. The kingdom will face its own annihilation under your brother's rule." I nodded, understanding. She continued, "Now do whatever you must to gain your first ally. For you cannot lead a rebellion without followers. Sabine is a good man and his people are strong." She then vanished, and the gates behind her swung open, placing me that much closer to my destiny.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After traveling through another veil of white, I was transported back the Academy, startling the old librarian who was counting s stack of small notecards. When he saw me appear as if out of nowhere, he jumped, so that the pieces of paper went flying about him. "Blessed index cards!" he placed a hand over his chest and smiled an old grin saying, "You made it! This is cause for great rejoicing. Albion has a hero again!" I smiled. "If ever I can be of assistance, I will be honored to serve you."

I thanked him and rushed out of the library to find my faithful companion waiting loyally for me outside of the door. He barked excitedly when he saw me, rushing up to me. I bent down on one knee, accepting his slobbery kisses gratefully, for he was a sight for sore eyes. I looked up to see Jasper smiling proudly at me. "I knew you would succeed, madam." I beamed and thanked him. "You now have proof positive of your heroic status. And I believe Walter has made some progress with the mercenary problem. He is waiting for you outside the local tavern."

I stood and looked at him oddly. "You mean you're not coming with me?"

He shook his head. "No, no. I do believe this adventuring business is frankly something I am not suited for. Besides, I have heard stories about the Academy. Albion's Greatest Seat of Learning they used to call it. Think of what books lay in there, how could I resist?" I laughed and gave him a warm hug. I then made my way to the pub where Walter was indeed leaning against the brick structure. He straightened himself when he saw me.

"You were successful then, bloody marvelous. You'll be glad to know I have some information on the mercenaries Sabine mentioned. They're lead by a man called Saker. He used to be a soldier, but always had more in common with bandits and cutthroats than the military." Walter spat with distaste, then went on to say, "His men are holed up in a small fortress in the mountains, so it won't be easy to get in." He grinned mischievously. "But I have a plan."

He turned towards the stairs leading to the upper level of the pub and began to climb, "Come with me." I followed him into the hot and humid tavern, the second floor mostly a loft looking over the many drunkards staggering about. Near the door there was a table with a rough looking man slumped over it, drool dribbling out of his gaping mouth. Walter motioned to him, "One of the mercenaries. A cold-blooded killer." I raised an eyebrow as the man mumbled something about a badger and a tea kettle. "His name's Clarence, but everyone calls him Jimmy." I bit back a laugh.

"He was drinking in the pub all day and generally making life unpleasant for everyone. It wasn't hard to get him completely pickled. These young thugs… bloody lightweights if you ask me." Walter let out a gruff chuckle. "Anyway, take his clothes, and you'll have a free pass into their camp. Just… try not to think about what those stains might be."

It took some heavy lifting and a tad bit of embarrassment, but I was able to remove the man's clothing and retreat into one of the bedrooms and change into them. The outfit consisted of black leather boots matched with black pants and vest with a large mercenary hat. I walked out to see what Walter thought. He scratched his stubbled chin and finally said, "Tuck your hair into the hat, and make sure not to get too close to the other bandits, without his beard and tattoos you may be easily revealed." I nodded.

I left the town, soon venturing into Mistpeak Valley again, staying close to the path to avoid the wolves. I followed a small mountain stream, pausing to take a break in what seemed a safe meadow. Jax accompanied me this time, and I was glad to have him alongside me. Soon a color of bright purple caught my eye. I made my way over and saw a beautiful delicate flower growing near a small boulder. It was one of the same flowers that bloomed in the palace gardens. "These are called Mountain Blue Violets." I recalled Elliot telling me. "Funny that they are called blue when there is no trace of it within the petals. But sometimes that is how it is. Titles or names don't necessarily define the true nature of living things." I had smiled at his philosophical insight. "I would give anything to see them in the mountains." Tears stung my eyes at the memory, and I wanted nothing more than to see Elliot again.

But this was not the time, I had urgent matters to attend to, and possessed no time to be wasted thinking of the past. I continued my way through the thick mountain forest, taking care to be aware of my surroundings. Bandits had a reputation of hiding amongst the foliage to catch travelers by surprise. There were no attacks, but still at each sound of the flapping wings of birds I gripped my sword, prepared for anything.

At last I reached a clearing, and lo and behold, a fortress of timber stood before me. Large banners hung from the guard towers, black cloth with a red hawk emblazoned upon it looking almost to be painted with blood. I knew it to be Saker's flag. He was here alright, waiting in his wooden palace, waiting to strike at the most opportune time.

I crossed through the stream toward the gates, noting the grey sky above me. I was grateful for the shadow it casted upon the land. With sunlight illuminating me, I would be easily discovered. I trudged up the hill stopping just outside the closed gates. A sketchy looking man leaned over the tower railing and greeted me. "Oi, Jimmy! Back from killing some dwellers? Come on in." he pulled a lever beside him and the gate rattled open.

The camp that lay within was barbaric; renegades, vagabonds, and deserters calling this place home. I sighted a ring of men encircling two brawny ones wrestling. The surrounding cowards called out their bets, and the winner only stood up and claimed his prize after he snapped his opponent's neck.

Across the camp were iron cast cages holding snarling wolves, the bandits tossing them scraps of raw meat through the bars. I pulled Jimmy's coat in tighter around me and tried my best to walk as though I was one of them. Jax growled, knowing each of the men to be a possible threat. Hopefully having a vicious canine would help make me more plausible as a criminal.

As I walked along two men who had been talking shouted over, "Hey look its Jimmy!" I looked over at them trying to wave me over. I gave a slight nod, just a jut of the chin, and continued on. "Oi don't be shy Jimmy! Why don't he come over?"

The other replied, "Maybe it's 'cause you've got an ass of a face, or maybe it's your breath."

"Come 'ere you bastard!" I looked over to see the first man tackle the other one, throwing lazy punches like they've done this every day.

Soon I came across another group of bandits circling a feral wolf. One chanted, "Come 'ere ya mutt."

Another placed a cautious hand on his shoulder warning, "Careful mate, he's probably got rabies." The man waved him off and reached to grab the animal by its scruff, but he was not agile enough, and the wolf took a large bite at his neck. With a quickened pace, I got past them fairly quickly.

At the end of the path leading into the camp, there was another gate with a guard standing outside. I approached him, lowering the brim of my hat to cover my face. He gave a toothy grin and spoke, "Alright Jim, how's things? You been drinkin' in Brightwall again?" I nodded, giving a small smile. He continued, "Don't let anyone tell you drinkin' alone is wrong." He gave a small chuckle. "That's some of the best times I've had. Anyway, in you go then mate."

Not that much farther in, there was another gate. It astounded me how well the security was with bandits. The guard was chatting with another who both turned to me as I drew nearer. One furrowed his brows at me and said, "Jimmy? Is that really you?" he took a step closer and scanned me up and down. My heart thudded loudly in my chest. "You look…different somehow. Were your eyes always that color?"

The other stepped toward me and narrowed his eyes. "Nah… Jimmy's got periwinkle eyes, like a beautiful summer morning sky." I fell back a few steps as he cried, "That's not him! It's not Jimmy!" he unsheathed his sword and swung it at me, but I gripped mine and parried it and shoved it from his hands. I plunged my blade into his chest and he fell to the ground like a limp doll.

The other came at me as well, but a few bullets from my pistol stopped him short. I could hear others call from the way I had come, so I quickly clutched the lever in my hand and shoved it back. The gate creaked open and as soon as I was through I cut the rope, causing it to slam close. I turned to see three bandits each with wolves by their sides. They let loose howls as they were released on me. I cut them down, but as one of the bandits was ready to shoot me, Jax bit his ankle, causing the man to howl as well, only with pain. I gave him a swift kick to the groin and when he was bent over I slammed my elbow into his back.

Farther and farther I fought into the camp, their novice training standing no chance against that of which I received from Walter. Although I had failed to block one oncoming assault and had a large slash wound on my leg. But I pushed the pain from my mind and, slightly limping, I fought on.

At the very edge of the camp, there was a large arena-like structure. I could hear the rowdy shouts and voices of mercenaries. I had no choice but to enter. I heard the jeers and insults hurled from the stands by the barbarians. But I didn't mind them; I had my eyes trained on a large figure of a man on a raised wooden platform above the stands. Saker shouted in a husky cockney accent, "Leave her! She's mine." I drew closer and he placed a foot on the log railing, then removing a smoking cigar from his lips. He was bulky and muscular, clothed in a ratted officer's uniform, matched with a menacing face.

He tapped the ashes of his cigar, and they fell like fluttering sparks, leaving still burning embers in the dirt down below, "You've left quite a trail of bodies. You're not one of Sabine's Dwellers, that's for damn sure." He shoved it back in his mouth and leapt over the railing, landing in front of me and snarling, "But you'll die like one."

The cheers of his fellow criminals grew louder as we circled each other. Finally, he grew tired and swung at me first, which I sidestepped, landing a kick in his gut. He grunted but returned quickly with slam to the leg. It happened to be the same leg with the wound, and blinding agony seared through my mind. He took the opportunity and kicked it again, causing me to fall to my knees.

Gripping my sword tightly I swung it around cleaving a gash in his side. He stumbled back and waved his arm, and soon five or six men jumped over the side of the stands to stand by his side. I should have known Saker to be far below fighting fair. It took a bit of work to dispose of them, using sword and pistol. I looked to my hand and remembered my gauntlet.

I shoved my hand forward and a condensed ball of blazing light flew from it, landing square in Saker's chest. I heard someone from the crowd shout, "She's a bloody magic user!"

Saker grinned, and chuffed, "I've got some fire of my own, you know." He caught a flaming metal object tossed to him from a bandit in the stands and hurled it at me. I rolled away as a small explosion sounded at my previous spot. I ran at him, using all my might to cut at him. But as soon as I swiped at him, he caught my hand in his, dwarfed in comparison. Saker began to squeeze and I heard the popping of bones. I cried out and my sword dropped to the ground with a clang. He shoved me back and I struggled to keep upright.

He laughed, "Given up Princess?" I took a deep breath in, and stood again, wincing slightly at the weight on my leg. The voices of the spectators quieted, obviously surprised at my return. Saker's smirk faded away and he tossed his still smoking cigar to the side. He came at me with a right hook which I ducked under, landing a hard strike at his gut, then twisting to place a strong elbow under his chin, knocking him back. Nearly instantly I swept my foot under him, causing him fall onto his back. I jumped over him, landing both feet on either side of his chest with the barrel of my gun pointed directly at his startled face.

He held his hands up in surrender, "Stop" he was breathing heavily. "You've won."

"On your knees." I barked.

He obliged, hanging his head in defeat as his followers stared in shock that their brutal leader was conquered. He spoke without looking at me, "This battle is yours. Kill me or let me live, it's your choice. And my men will honor it." He shook his head. "We may be nothing but mercenaries, but we have our codes, like any other soldiers. We'll leave the Dwellers be no matter what you do, _that_ is a warrior's promise."

Saker stood, waiting for my decision. If our places were switched, he would not have hesitated in my execution. But I was not Saker, I was the Princess. No… more than that. I was a Hero, and I had a duty, and I knew what the right choice was.

I gave him a strong slap across his cheek. He grimaced but looked up to see my hand stretched out. Saker hesitantly took it, snatching his cigar that lied next to him, and I heaved him up to his feet. He looked down at me and said, "Thank you, I won't forget this." He raised his arms to his men and shouted, "Let the stranger go!"

A familiar veil of white cloaked my vision, and when it dissipated, I was with Theresa once more. She spoke softly, "You have taken another step on the road to rule. Sparing Saker has won over the support of his followers." I nodded. "Word is already spreading of your compassion and your strength." And with that she was gone, and so was I from the Road to Rule.

I returned to Brightwall to be greeted by Jasper once more by the gates. He beamed as he said, "It is a momentous occasion, madam; your first victory in battle!" he digressed, "I'm not expert on personal combat, but I would say, based on the fact you're not dead, you acquitted yourself rather well."

I grinned, "Thank you Jasper, your support means the world to me."

"Sir Walter is still waiting for you in the tavern. He's seemed to become rather attached to the place." I made my way to the second level of the inn, finding both Sir Walter and Samuel the Librarian stationed at the table.

When Walter spotted me he smiled wide, "Here she is! We were just talking about you."

The older man nodded, "Indeed. We have made a toast to your stupendous feat in ridding Mistpeak of Saker and his men. They have been the source of great distress for some time." He raised his glass then took a ginger sip from the rim.

"Nobody will be more pleased than Sabine. His Dwellers might find some peace now." Said Walter.

"Of course." Sam agreed. "No one has suffered more than they."

Walter shifted in his chair. "I've been telling Samuel here about the terrible situation they're in. He thinks he may be able to help."

"Yes. Well, perhaps… I mean of course! The thing is, as I was just explaining to Sir Walter, Brightwall has no overabundance of resources itself." My heart sunk slightly. "The king's levies are rather steep, and we face shortages more often than is comfortable."

"But…" Walter pressed.

Samuel continued, "But if you were to improve things around Brightwall, people would be most grateful. And when people are grateful, they are also charitable." I nodded. "I'm sure they would find it in their hearts to send aid to those poor people."

"There you have it." Walter stated. "The way I see it, you will need all the followers you can get if you're going to lead a successful rebellion. What better time to start?"

And so, I set out into the town, searching for things I could do to aid the people, after changing back into the clothes I had received at the castle. I helped a small girl escape from a cavern of wolves in Mistpeak, returning her to her distraught mother. There was also an older farmer whose chickens had all escaped from their pen. Upon returning I found the man to be positive that the plump birds were conspiring against him and wished to see his downfall. I helped his wife convince him otherwise, but I avoided their little piece of land from then out.

Also, in the towns bakery I was offered a small paying job rolling out dough. The woman who owned the shop was named Mary, and was lovely to me, even patient when my pressed dough was too thick or thin. She was quite the talker, sparing me of having to tell my testimony, and allowing me to keep my royal birthright to myself. And still she knew who I was, whispering in my ear at our final parting, "We will follow you anywhere, your majesty." I squeezed her tight, grateful for her kindness to me.

After several weeks of aiding the people of Brightwall, the town crier tracked me down near the small pond that resided in the western part of the town, informing me that Samuel awaited me near the entrance. I made my way over to see nearly every person who dwelled there waiting for me. Samuel stood before them beaming at me with four or five men beside him holding large wooden crates.

He held his arms wide and projected, "Esteemed citizens of Brightwall, today, we demonstrate the generous nature of our fair town." The people cheered. The elderly man continued, "For too long have our mountain neighbors suffered in silence. And now, we extend a helping hand. But, this effort would not have been possible without the courage and determination of one woman; the daughter of the old hero King!" The crowd grew louder, jumping with joy. "From this day, we shall know you as The Hero of Brightwall!"

Walter gave me a strong slap on the back and Mary rushed forward to give me a warm hug along with a bag of all my favorite pastries. The men and women of the town retreated to the pub to continue the celebration with music and drinks. Samuel approached me, and I greeted him with a smile. "Before you leave," he began, "we ask of you one favor. As we pledge ourselves to you, so we hope you will pledge to return Brightwall to its formal glory and reopen the Academy which your father founded."

I shook his frail outstretched hand and promised. "I will." The library was not only a place of education; it was a symbol of acceptance. Anyone would be able to use its resources, whether they be rich and posh, or humble farmers. It is necessary for Albion to unite itself in knowledge, to ensure a peaceful and educated future.

Samuel nearly trembled with happiness as he sputtered, "Very, very good. Very good." He grasped my hand tighter and beamed, "I expected nothing less from you." He stepped back and motioned to the men behind him. "These volunteers shall carry the supplies to the dweller camp. They may have them with our blessing." Samuel looked to me again and said, "I hope you will return one day, not just as our hero, but as our queen!"

Upon arriving to the Dweller Camp, I saw the mountaineers gathered along the path, looking to me with anticipation. I climbed my way to the center where Sabine sat upon his makeshift throne. I held out the music box which had apparently appeared to Walter in his bag, presenting it to the old leader. "Our hero returns!" he grinned. "Bringing good tidings…and supper." He chortled.

I handed the metal child's toy to Sabine and he cranked the handle then knocked on the top. "Damn thing doesn't open…how do you…? Oh well, I never thought you'd actually get it to tell you the truth. Boulder." He shrugged and passed it to his large bodyguard who had my dog pressed against his trunk like legs.

Sabine then turned to his people huddled around us, "We've been blessed, my friends! We've made an alliance that already brought us life. One day, it will bring us much more." I shifted his gaze back to me and spoke, "We require but one more offering before we fight at your side. Promise to restore these mountains to their full glory and protect our right to dwell in them and promise you will bring nothing but the fiercest justice upon Logan's head!"

"I promise." I said with determination.

He looked to the crowd again and shouted, "Then may we be carried into the castle, by the dark storms of fury!"

Walter placed a large hand on Sabine's small shoulder and said calmly, "You'll have to wait a little longer for that." The shorter man looked down disappointed. "It's still just us against a whole army. We need to recruit more people."

Sabine huffed, "I was afraid you'd come over all logical and sensible. Well you have brought us a feast, and we are free to hunt again. We'll just keep on eating and drinking till you're good and ready. Right Boulder?" Sabine looked to see him petting Jax and grunting in agreement. Sabine grinned, "He couldn't be happier."

Then, another veil of white clouded my vision, and again, I was with my father's guide in a place that seemed separate from reality. She spoke softly, "You have made an important ally today. The revolution cannot hope to succeed without fighters such as Sabine and his people on your side. You have the beginnings of an army now." And she was gone from my sight, and soon I was back in the dweller camp, like not one second had passed.

Walter told me as we walked away from Sabine, "I couldn't be prouder of what you've accomplished here. But there is still much for us to do. And I know just where to find our next allies." He stopped and turned to face me as he said, "I'll meet you at the station in Mistpeak when you're ready. The revolution is just getting started." Then he spun and left the camp.

I spent some time with the Dwellers, participating in their revelries and celebration. I saw men and women happily adorning new clothes and fitting their young ones into some as well. I was offered an overabundant amount of food but denied it, knowing they required it more than I.

After a few hours I set out to find the famous monorail station. It was an engineering miracle that had graced the public with easy travel through the mountains of Mistpeak, for a fee, of course. It had been entirely funded by Reaver Industrial, and the profits lined the pockets of the shareholders, leaving them full of vast wealth, and the poor penniless.

Upon the road there, I came across a band of renegades blocking it. A particularly nasty one leered, "Hello love. Hate to break it to ya but this happens to be a toll road. I think it'd be in your best interest to pay up."

I gave a cold laugh and narrowed my eyes, "No way in hell would I give anything to you, save this one piece of advice: leave."

His grin faded slightly, and he sauntered up to me and stared down at me with an intimidating look, "Yeah? And why would we do that, girly?"

I didn't break eye contact and I said, "You should ask Saker who I am."

The men behind him backed up, looking anxious. One spoke up, "Dan, that's the Hero that Saker pledged alliance to. Right after she defeated him in combat."

Dan laughed, "Nice try, but we don't work under Saker, we are our own 'independent organization'. Plus, you don't look like anything special to me sweetheart, beside your fancy clothes." The bandit reached out to grab me, but I placed a firm grip on his wrist and twisted it around, the pressing down on his stiffened elbow hard until a snap sounded. He cried out in agony falling to his knees. I placed my pistol under his chin and released the trigger.

The criminal fell dead at my feet and I looked up to his comrades and questioned, "Anyone else?" They raised their hands in surrender and ran in the opposite direction. I kicked the limp body, rolling him over to his back. I felt a pang of guilt for ending his life, wondering if he had family. I then reassured myself that no bandit had a life outside of crime, and it was one less violent coward in the world.

I traveled within the open gap in the mountain, following the rotten pathway deep into the caverns, small lanterns guiding the way. On the side of the tunnel walls were plastered posters advertising new products of Reaver Industrial such as a Peasant Prodder and Miracle Mustache creams. There was one that shown the brightly smiling face of a child in factory clothes with the slogan of, "A working child is a happy child!" I frowned at the soot covered face and tattered uniform that hung unfittingly about the scrawny frame of the young boy.

I pressed on, finding Walter lounging on a wooden bench as he waited for me. He sat up when I approached, yawning loudly. "I can never get over this place." He looked over the large tunnel. "Twenty years ago it was just a damp, murky void in the middle of nowhere. Now people queue up to get dangled across it in a steel box." He shook his head, then pointed across the platform, "And here it comes."

I looked to see just that, a steel box suspended on a metal railing. It chugged along slowly, a mix of mist and smog hanging around it. "Most of the people here will be heading straight to Bowerstone, but we're going to take a little detour first. I just hope…" Walter was cut short as a metallic screech sounded throughout the cavern. Large sparks flew from the monorail and you could hear the sputtering engine failing. "Something's wrong!" my mentor shouted and Jax whined in agreement. Immediately after those fateful words left his lips, the car exploded, leaving it dangling from one side.

"It's about to fall!" Someone shrieked. Nearly a second later another explosion occurred, sending it falling into the depths below, the screams of terror filled passengers audible.

"No!" Walter cried. He looked defeated as a fiery blaze erupted from the fog below. He spun to me and ordered, "Come on! We have to get down there." He swiftly made his way down stairs that led to a maintenance lift.

A woman wailed, "Those people! Those poor, poor, people!"

A gate stood between us and the lift and Walter scowled, "This must be the way down. We have to find those people. See if there are any survivors." He shoved his sword through the gap between the gate and its lock and pried it open. With one last grunt the latch shattered, providing the way to the lift to be open. Walter fell to his knee, breathing hard, trying to recover. It must have taken a considerable amount of strength to open it, but I knew that he was not the man he once was. Age had robbed him of his once possessed vigor and tenacity.

I helped him up and we crossed on to the maintenance platform which a layer of dust indicated to not have seen the footfalls of men in some time, as Walter said, "Let's go!" The shaft was no bigger than a water closet and creaked under the combined weight of Walter, Jax, and me. He looked around before closing the door and then frowned, "Looks like the only way." He sighed and closed his eyes and muttered to himself, "Alright, I can do this."

He shut the divider saying, "Let's get down, I don't want to spend any more time in this box than I have to." He then quickly, without giving himself much time to think grabbed the small lever and flipped it down. The steel lift shuddered to life and gracelessly made its way down to the bottom of the cavern.

The lift slammed down and Walter swiftly made his way out of it, anxious to stand on stable ground again. He pointed to the front of us, "It fell somewhere up ahead." I looked to the darkness that lied before us and glanced to Jax for comfort. "Come on!" Walter said while waving me to follow him.

Wooden planks where set up all across the stone walls to prevent it a cave in, but boards were loose, rotten, or gone completely. It was easy to see that Reaver Industrial had no interest in keeping the public who use the monorail safe. They wished not to spend on such "trivial and unneeded" things such as maintenance.

Only a few meters more into the dark we heard what made me stop dead in my tracks. It was a laugh, but clearly not one of human origin. The cackling was twisted and malicious, like if one took pleasure in the pain of others. Jax pressed himself against my legs, his scruff raised, and teeth bared.

"I'd know those sounds anywhere." Walter said quietly. "Maybe the monorail falling wasn't and accident after all!"

Up ahead was a blazing red light, visible from around a corner. Small garbles of sounds could be heard along with the roar of fire. I ran ahead and saw the most disgusting thing I had ever laid eyes on. A Hobbe.

I read about these creatures back when I was a young girl in the castle. It was shelved among other books of fairytales, but the author claimed his work to be not. Thinking of it, it had also been where I had learned of wisps as well. The book told that the first Hobbes were young children led away by the whispering of dark nymphs. There, in the deepest parts of the woodland, their souls were snatched, and their bodies deformed into devilish creatures with a lust for blood.

The thing I looked upon now had grey leathery skin, large ears, and teeth to match. It stood but three feet from the ground and in its small, ham like fist held a string of pearls that was snatched off a now mutilated lady. It was not alone, for others were circled around the flaming car, scavenging what was left of its poor passengers. One fled away, its body engulfed in flames as another fell from the top of the box laughing. Another held a leg bone, banging mindlessly on one of the wheels.

"Hobbes! I knew it!" Walter proclaimed. He looked to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Don't leave any of the little bastards alive."

I unsheathed my sword, its sound resonating throughout, causing the creatures to look up to see Walter and I, eyes narrowed, and weapons drawn. One raised its stubby arm to the air and released a high-pitched call, and they rushed at us. I took my stance and watched the closest one charge at me. It took but one swing to cleave a deep gash in its middle. The creature stopped dead in its tracks, looked down at its open wound, and then fell over.

Four or five attempted to swing crowbars and old planks of wood at my knees, but they were no match. One dove towards my ankles and bit at my heels. I kicked him up into the air and swung, severing him mid-flight. Walter kicked one back, launching it into the flames of the destroyed monorail car. He scrunched his nose and said with disgust, "Squishy… aren't they?" Jax yelped in agreement and tore through the skin of one's leg.

After I had swiped a Hobbes legs out from under it, I plunged my sword into his gut and Walter chuckled, "They've never faced a Hero before, that's for sure. You show them!"

There was one remaining of the repugnant little devils, and, when it glanced around and realized so, took off in the other direction. I quickly gripped my pistol and landed two shots in his back. My mentor looked at me, pride filling his face as he said, "What a shot and a half. That's a dead Hobbe alright." We sheathed out swords and he continued, "That's it, but there'll be more. That's something you can count on with Hobbes. There's always more…"

Walter looked to the burning car, the flames illuminating the look of pity his face held. "Those poor souls, they never stood a chance." He then crossed his arms and huffed, "I'm not getting into a monorail car for as long as I live, I can tell you that. Let's keep going, there must be a way out through these tunnels."

Together, we pushed forward, treading carefully over the creaking wooden planks apparently to serve as bridges over the abysmal caverns. After a bit, I finally spoke the question that had been on my mind since I left the Dweller Camp. "So," I began, looking to the old soldier. "Where are we going?"

Walter focused ahead and spoke vaguely, "To find some old friends." I scowled at him until he sighed and continued, "Let's just say I wouldn't want to go into any battle without them on my side." I was about to press him more, but another smattering of Hobbes stood in our way. These were still easily defeated, but some larger ones had adorned the old and tattered uniforms of the soldiers of Albion. It made me sick to think of such brave men falling to these slimy creatures of the underworld, but this wretched feeling only fueled my anger to destroy the demons that plagued these tunnels.

Farther and farther we fought ourselves through. But for quite a bit of time, we had not seen any Hobbes, or at the very least they had not attacked us. It was not until, in a cavern lighted blood red, across a wide and bottomless pit did we see the true reason of why we were left untouched for the long amount of time. Perched at the edge of the chasm, was a group of the creatures armed with rusted shotguns. Jax growled.

"I was wondering why none of the buggers had charged at us for a while, they've been waiting to pick us off from a distance. Surprisingly clever." Walter mused. "Well, we can have a shoot out here, or we could give them a taste of their own smart medicine and flank them. It's up to you." I knew that my pistol was no good for long distance range, and I would miss my targets more often than not. So, I motioned Walter to follow close behind. "Right-ho. No point in standing here collecting bullet holes. I've got a few I'm not using as it is." Walter agreed as we scurried around the trench, dodging awfully aimed shots easily.

We approached them from behind, as they still pointed the barrels of their weapons across, looking for us, dimly not understanding where we had gone. It was easy to make short work of them from there. Walter and I rounded a corner and saw a large, crudely made wooden fortress. Planks were thrown together with nails clumsily hammered in to provide a scrappy amount of support. Above it all, centered with a nail through its gut, was a ratty looking teddy bear to serve as a symbol of some sort.

"Well you look at that," Walter said mockingly. "They've built themselves a little castle. Isn't that adorable." The larger ones in stolen uniforms now bore guns, which they had little trouble aiming at our heads. I rolled out the way of one shot and placed my own pistol and the center of my attacker. The look of complete and utter fear caused my blood to run cold, reminding me that these creatures once had been children; innocent little ones driven into this dark world by their natural curiosities.

The Hobbe saw my hesitation and used the opportunity to raise its club high over its grimy little body. But before the thing could deliver the blow, Walter had his sword stuck through its midsection. "Ha!" he exclaimed. "You little bastards weren't expecting that, were you?" He pulled back his blade, and, grimacing, flicked the dark blood off the tip.

Onward we continued, the dark red mist that had filled the previous parts of the tunnel receding, leaving only the cool and moist air, and the view of grey stone and glittering cave gems growing from the ground or cavern roof. The amount of mobs had reduced considerably, to nearly none. But, as Walter had said before, that meant that there was something ahead, waiting for us, and my furry companion had not relaxed.

After crossing a small pool of water, there was a natural mineral arch which was sealed by a magical barrier created by a Hobbe standing behind it. It wore a funny little hat and was considerably smaller than the two soldier Hobbes that guarded it. "The little sods blocking our way." My mentor said annoyed. He turned to me, "You'll have to get behind it somehow. A cave like this, there has to be some other way of getting there."

I looked to the right and saw the pool continuing down a little gulch. I followed it; hearing Walter jeer from behind, "Think you're so smart, standing behind your fancy magic, don't you? Yes, that's right I'm talking to you!" the small magical Hobbe cackled, perhaps understanding at least some of what Walter said, or recognizing its hindrance to our path.

The small river did indeed lead to another way into the blocked area, and I was not surprised at the lack of defense of the obvious secondary passageway, it only proved the dimwittedness of these confounded creatures. I was able to take out the two guards with two shots of my pistol. The loud noises startled the magic user and caused the spell to be disrupted. Walter quickly stepped through and ended it within a second.

"Smart enough to use magic, not smart enough to wear their pants the right way round. Try explaining that." I chuckled, kicking the foot of the soldier Hobbe. Looking onward, there was a small opening into the next section of the caves. I sighed and climbed through it, imagining not what I saw on the other side.

A cloud of bats shrieked as they flew past my ear. What I beheld was not the common dwellings of Hobbes as Dan Mourir had depicted in the novel I had read as a child, but what looked to be the ruins of an ancient city. Intricately carved stone pathways lead across the expansive caverns to what looked to be an arena-like structure.

"Now this…" Walter spoke. "This I wasn't expecting. There must have been a whole city down here once. You don't think the Hobbes built it, do you?" I shook my head, still gazing upon the scattered structures. "Nah, not with those stubby fingers." He chortled. Walter looked inquisitively over the rest of the cave and stated, "There must be a way out through here anyways."

As we reached the outside of the center structure, the one that resembled the amphitheater, Walter asked, his eyebrows knit in suspicion, "Have you noticed how quite it all is here? Almost like…" We entered through the large stone arch and saw Hobbes scattered around the edge walls of the arena, most of them banging bones on what looked to be drums made of some sort of skin, and my only guess of who's made me shiver.

Two magic-using Hobbes appeared out of a thin blue mist at the center of the arena, bearing large and gruesome grins on their devilish faces. Walter nodded, "Yep, almost like that was going to happen." On the both passages out, there were Hobbes sealing the door yet again with their crude use of magic, with Jax stuck on the outside, yelping and barking, trying to reach me.

The two sorcerer ones summoned a multitude of what looked to be the hollowed remains of their fallen companions, surrounding us with skeleton Hobbes. I sent a few fireballs blazing to the dusty remnant bodies, their tattered clothes and dried bones lighting like tinder. Soon the magical barrier blocking us from the center Hobbes was diminished, and we struck them down before they could summon another horde of skeleton Hobbes.

The spectator Hobbes saw that the battle had taken a turn for their demise as a result of our lack of death and fled the coliseum. As the last demon fell, the world froze for a moment, Walter in a follow-through swing after ending the lone Hobbe. A voice intruded my mind, Theresa's, and said, "You have overcome an important task. A good leader must always be ready to face the unknown, and to seek new paths. Your defeat of the creatures in this cave will be told throughout the land."

Once she had gone, the prospect of time continued. Jax rushed at me, one of the barriers from the entrance having gone. But the exit out of the arena was blocked, still, by the stubborn little magic weaver. Even as Walter and I approached, the small thing quaking in fear, it continued to hold the barrier spell steady.

"Hm," Walter said. "I don't think you're going to find a way around this time. But," he held up a finger and smiled mischievously, "I've got some magic of my own. Watch and learn." He cracked his knuckles and then feigned to be interested in something else. Then, abruptly, he jumped at the Hobbe shouting, "Boo!" The creature jumped back in terror, the barrier fading away. It clutched at its heart, dropping the stick of a staff, then fell over, dead from fright.

"Oh." said Walter, surprised. "It worked." I laughed, hard enough where I had to grab my knees and catch my breath. My aging mentor rolled his eyes, "Let's get out of here, shall we?" I nodded; grabbing final gulps of air before standing up and following behind him out of the structure, and soon, out of a large gap in the wall of the tunnels, into daylight.


	4. Chapter 4

We emerged from the dark and murky cave, but the air was not much better. What surrounded the exit of the tunnel was a swamp, a marshy expanse of green foliage and a murky slush of a sopping grass puddle hybrid. Insects buzzed by my ears, and the calls of birds filled the sky I could not see clearly through the tops of the giant trees.

"Ahh." Walter sighed. "You can almost smell the sunlight. Isn't it wonderful? The damp, muggy, soggy sunlight." I scrunched my nose and swatted a large stick like insect away from my face, which Jax tried to catch in his mouth. He looked around and stated, "This is Mourningwood alright. I hope the people we're looking for are still alive."

"Why wouldn't they be?" I questioned, looking to the marsh around me, finding it to be only threatening to my shoes and nose.

"Because come nightfall, it's one of the most dangerous places in Albion." Walter stopped and scratched at his shin and bit, "I don't know about dangerous, but I'm starting to get a rash. Bloody swamp." I smiled and pushed a low hanging branch out of my way as I followed close behind my mentor.

"We made a good team back in that cave, didn't we? It's been a while since I got stuck into a real fight." spoke Walter after a moment. He continued, reminiscently, "It was just like fighting by your father's side." He turned to face me, his face wistful. "I'd forgotten what it was like, standing next to a Hero."

I gave him a weak smile. The transformation of my life from the castle to then was significant, and I felt like things were moving so rapidly I could barely stop to think about the immense changes. I knew that a Hero was what I was, but I didn't feel like one. Sometimes, I could feel the strength of my father surging through me in battles. But afterwards, I felt like the same frightened delicate princess who couldn't even hold her own against her brother.

After a half an hour or so, the nearly invisible path became less so, and leveled out. Walter, out of breath, said, "I think we're almost there." He was right, for as we rounded a large collection of mossy boulders, we saw a small wooden bridge leading over a marshy pool and into a stone fort.

"That must be the place up ahead." Stated the aging soldier, and continued longingly, "What I wouldn't give for a bowl of soup and a hot bath."

As we advanced toward the stairs leading into the defense structure, a soldier in a ratted and filthy uniform called from above, "Cease your movement! Be you men or be you hollow men?"

Walter shouted, "Have you gone daft boy? Open up the doors!"

"Walter? Is that you?" the man asked.

"The very same. Now are you going to let us in or not?" he spoke impatiently.

"Right. Yes of course!" he turned to the inside of the fort and exclaimed, "Open the gates! Tell Major Swift Walter's here!" The wooden doors rattled open as two uniformed men stood before us, holding them.

"Welcome Sir Walter." They both greeted, looking ahead, well trained.

The fort was aged, cracks running through the walls that weren't reduced to rubble. It had seen hard days for certain. But it possessed a cheery mood all the same. There were soldiers drinking, chatting, and one even stroked the strings of a lute beside a barrel of ammunition.

Two men stood before us, the first a decorated general. He had a stern face that was covered by a large and bushy mustache. His dark hair was combed over his head in the same curling fashion as his facial hair, and possessed a streak of grey, indicating his age to be near that of Walter's. Two jeweled swords hung by his side and a pistol strapped to his chest. His posture was serious and intimidating, but his eyes held a lighthearted fire that sparked trust in me immediately.

The man to his right was far younger, looking to be of my age. His uniform was far less formal than the other soldiers, lacking the coat and hat, and the white shirt underneath splattered with blood. He bore a mischievous grin and messy blonde hair, and a slight amount of scruff on his chin. He may have looked like a new recruit despite the massive amount of weaponry he carried. Slung over his back was a large blunderbuss and at his side a pistol. Carried on his chest was a strap of five bombs and a thick bladed sword at his hip.

Walter walked up to the older man and grabbed his forearm while the other did the same. Walter grinned and bellowed, "There he is, the one and only. Major Swift."

The general chortled, "Walter! What the blazes are you doing here?"

"We came looking for you!" Walter said pointing. "I have a proposition."

The young one, who had been staring at me with inquisitive eyes as I tried not to notice, spoke, "You came all this way to 'proposition' us?" He chuffed, "And I thought you were here to save us from the legions of the damned."

Walter's grin widened, "Ben Finn!" He slapped him on the back and Jax started to sniff his shoes and hands "It's good to see you. I take it the legends about this place are true then."

Major Swift snorted, "I'll say. You've never seen so many hollow men in one place. We've been stationed here for weeks trying to eradicate them." He walked over a small set of quickly dug graves and continued, "Mainly, it's us getting eradicated. We lost some good men last night, including Lieutenant Simmons here." Sadness filled his voice as he pointed to the center grave. Swift turned back to Walter, "And the buggers will be back tonight!"

Walter answered, "Logan just loves to send you on the best assignments, doesn't he?" My fists clenched at my brother's name. "That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about…"

The Major, as if just noticing I was there, looked to me, puzzled, and began, "Is this…?"

"The Princess, yes." Walter replied for me. The man Ben's confused expression cleared up and smiled as if a great mystery had been solved. "I'll explain." My mentor said. "But just treat her as any other pair of hands for now."

Major Swift nodded and took a drag from his blazing pipe. "Fair enough." He looked to me, respect and seriousness etching his features. "Captain Finn will show you to the mortar. We could use a body up there."

Ben Finn spoke kindly, "Meet me on the wall when you're ready. I'll introduce you to Private Jammy, so called because he's the luckiest sod in the fort." He then walked in to the southern side, and Jax trailed him.

"You'll probably be stuck by that mortar all night." Walter guessed. "Take a look around first, talk to the men; it never hurts to know who's got your back."

I made my way around, seeing the aspects of life these men were living, but I could still hear Swift and Walter despite what they might have thought. "So, the Princess. What's going on there then?" asked Swift surprised that I was here, naturally.

"It's just as I'd hope, Swifty, just as we'd all hoped."

"She's a Hero then, ready to lead the Kingdom in a glorious rebellion." Swift proclaimed happily.

"That's right. Soon." Walter said in a hushed voice, and they both looked over to me. I pretended that I hadn't been dropping in on their conversation and quickly climbed the stone steps to the top of the fort's walls where Ben was with another man.

Ben looked me over and crossed his arms, "I don't suppose you've ever used a mortar before." He grinned a shook his head, "There's nothing to it. There's always a slight chance of maiming of course but, um, I'm sure you'll pick it up." He winked, and I gave a weak smile.

"First, I'd like to introduce you to Private Jammy. He'll be your loader." Captain Finn motioned to the lad next to him, and he looked like hell to be honest. He had many bandages wrapped around his head, torso, and limbs. All were soaked with blood and his eye was swollen shut.

He sniffed and spoke congested, "Pleasure to meet ya. True what they say about me, ya know; jammiest soldier in Albion. Seven-hundred and twenty-four wounds and still standing!" he raised his fist to the air, obviously proud of such a gruesome accomplishment.

Ben laughed, "Don't worry, you'll get used to him. After a while he's hardly revolting at all." Jammy bore a toothy grin, with several of them missing. "Right Jammy! It's time to show her the ropes."

"Yes Sir!" cried Jammy saluting him with a mangled hand. "Right then," he said turning to me. "My life's gonna be in your hands so, let's make sure you know what you're doing, okay?" He placed his hand on the large metal cannon, "Go on, grab the mortar and we'll do some practice shots."

I nodded and seized the end of the mortar, controlling its firing point. "Right, let's see what you've got. See that scarecrow over there?" Jammy asked. He was pointing to one centered in the middle of the marsh behind the fort. "Blow it up. Yeah, that's right! Let's blow it to buggery! Come on!" I smiled and lit the fuse. Within moments the metal shot was fired from the mortar with surprising force and sound, blasting the scarecrow to smithereens.

"Yes! Yes! Boom!" Jammy cackled. He turned to Ben, "You see that? You see it? That scarecrow's a goner!"

Captain Finn smirked and nodded at Jammy's enthusiasm, "Beautiful, move on to the next one."

I aimed at the one to the left of it, firing once again with a satisfying crack as again the scarecrow was reduced to nothing but a pile of ash. "Boosh!" laughed Jammy. "Goodbye Mr. Scarecrow! That was bloody brilliant!"

"Alright Jammy, don't get too excited. You know what happens when you do. Let's just take care of the last one." Ben said.

The private nodded and pointed to the last figure. "Just one left. Hang on…" he squinted and limped closer to the edge. "I don't remember setting this one up." Just then, the skeleton broke from its support rods and let loose a deep kind of growling noise. It set its eyes on us, and I could see the light blue glow of the wisp that had taken refuge in the cranium. Several more broke forth from the ground and stood by its side, beginning a shambling walk towards the entrance of the fort.

A soldier yelled, "They're here! Start firing!"

I positioned the mortar toward the horde of hollow men, letting the metal shot loose on the pack of them. They exploded, each and every one of them. But our problems were not over, for the invasion was far from it. Several other groups burst forth from the dirt and marsh, running towards us with surprising speed. I did everything in my power to blast through them, Jammy working hard through his injuries to load the mortar as quickly as possible. Ben stood beside us, firing his blunderbuss at those who proceeded close enough.

Soon, Swift shouted above the sounds of mortar and gun shots, "They're at the rear gates! Take position!"

I leapt over the railing and ran down to the gates, Ben close behind shouting, "All guns on the gates! We can't let them through!" The skeletal beings pounded at the wooden gates, and the two soldiers from earlier ran and placed all their weight against it.

One strangled, "We can't hold them! They're too strong." Mere seconds later the gates collapsed on the two men, and they were crushed underneath the logs as the hollow man legion stormed through. We quickly went to work, fighting off the wretched zombies. The gauntlet of mine was drastically dangerous to the beings. But more and more continued to appear, fighting in uncountable numbers.

Even so, they were no match for the strength of the soldiers who dwelled in the Mourningwood Fort. The lute player from earlier in particular showed great tenacity, smashing the skull of a hollow man with his instrument. The battle seemed to be looking up, me with stance next to Ben Finn; the monsters never stood a chance. We shared blows and aided each other's kills. We laughed as Ben's swing of his sword sent a hollow man's head flying into that of another skeleton.

Though our fun would not last long for as we looked to the side, we saw none other than the private being slashed open and falling limp into the dirt. "Jammy!" cried Ben. Anger carved the captain's features as he cut three hollowed men down to size within seconds. I casted one last look to the fallen soldier then continued on with the fight.

Soon the final one was dead once again and Swift proclaimed, "Victory! All hail the princess! Now who's for a pint?" the remaining soldiers gave a tired yet vigorous cheer. We turned and saw one last blue light of a wisp float in. It swiftly made its way to the crudely dug gravesite and implanted itself into the center grave.

A gruesome half-skeletal half-rotting hand shot through the recently disturbed dirt and yanked the rest of its body above ground. I drew my sword once again and watched in horror as the colossal remains stood. The corpse was missing its jaw so the rotted tongue lolled around, making the entirety of the monster even more disgusting. "Lieutenant Simmons!" shouted Major Swift commandingly, "I specifically instructed you to remain buried!"

Ben cried in exasperation, "Doesn't anyone follow orders anymore?"

The large structure of bones took a large inhale, as if he were breathing oxygen, and exhaled several other wisps. The spirits quickly took possession of the fallen troops and commanded them as vessels towards me. I had no choice but to defend those still living and did my best to stop these malicious ghosts. Once Simmons's small horde was defeated, I moved to defeat the evil at its source.

Because of the freshness of the corpse, the animated Lieutenant was not easily destroyed by my gauntlet alone. Each time my blade cleaved at him, dried blood and green liquid oozed from his wounds. I would not be deterred, though, and continued to lop off decaying limbs. It was not until one final fiery blast did the deceased commander erupted into a combination of dried blood and deteriorating fleshy parts.

By the time of Simmons's death, the sun had begun to rise again, painting the sky a collection of pink and gold hues. I walked back to Walter, finding him standing next to the Major and Captain. Ben was the first to speak, giving me a large grin as he admitted, "That was pretty damn impressive!" I returned the smile. "So, your father wasn't the last Hero of Albion after all."

Major Swift spread his arms to the remainder of the men and bellowed, "We did it! No really, we did!"

"Let the poets tell our epic tale," Ben said. "The Swift brigade fought against impossible odds… they won… the end." Finn turned to my mentor and praised, "Well, Sir Walter, you didn't do too bad. For an old man."

Walter chuckled and retorted, "Neither did you… for a buffoon." They both laughed good-naturedly, and then Ben turned to celebrate with the other men. I decided that Ben was a man I could whole-heartedly trust without any ounce of doubt. Sure, he was cocky and a jokester, but he was brave and good-natured, and I would take that over serious and tactical any day. I had Walter for that anyhow.

"Ah," Swift began. "That was just like old times Walter. Just like old times."

"So, what do you say? Will you join us?" Walter asked. "With your help we can put a stop to Logan's madness. Bring back the real Albion army."

The general looked skeptical and spoke harshly, "I swore to serve my king to the death. We all did." Swift sighed and continued, turning towards me, "But this isn't the way it was meant to be. The Old Guard has been shoved aside and these new soldiers Logan's been gathering; they don't care about this land or its people."

Ben, who had appeared by my side once again, muttered, "Yeah, and I bet they get paid more..."

"Walter has absolute faith in you, and after seeing you in action, so do I." Swifts stern face broke into a warm smile, causing me to do the same. "All I ask is that you make a soldier's oath." I nodded and stepped forward. "Let your armies protect the people instead of oppressing them. Bring honor back to this uniform."

"Yeah and don't forget the pay raise." Interjected Finn.

Walter muttered with exasperation, "Shut up Ben."

I smiled wide and shook Swift's hand and promised to keep true to his wishes. A moment after, the world stopped, as it had done in the Hobbe cave, and Theresa spoke once again in my head. Although I could not see the blind women's face, I could hear the near-joy in her voice as she said, "This has been a momentous day. With the support of Major Swift and his soldiers, the revolution grows in strength. And you are one step closer to becoming the leader this kingdom needs." She faded away and time continued with Swift still shaking my hand vigorously and Walter beaming at me.

"Then it's settled." Walter began. "We're heading back to Bowerstone now. There are some people there I'm hoping will join us. We'll send for you when we're ready."

Swift took another deep inhale of his pipe and nodded, "Then I shall bid you good luck and farewell and all that." He waved his hand dismissively.

"And just try not to get the rest of these lads killed, will you?" Said Walter seriously. "We're going to need you all."

Ben chuckled, "You always know what to say to keep moral up, Wally. Now get outta here."

"Farewell my friends." Smiled Walter, turning to me. "Come on, you did good today, but we're just getting warmed up." We exited out the back of the fort and traveled along the musty path towards the sewers to Bowerstone. Even though the thought of the revolting stenches I would encounter made my stomach threaten to dump its contents, I understood the reason for that passageway in.

We were wanted. Logan's soldiers would be on the alert for us. Swift's men and the general army were the exception; the King's royal guards were of a different breed and would not be so kind. The tunnels underneath the city lead to the heart of Bowerstone Industrial and was the safest and most inconspicuous entrance. But in order to be sure that I wouldn't be spotted easily, I needed a change of clothes.

Before I had left the fort, there was a soldier there with quite a hand for sewing. He modified the renegade uniform from Jimmy and fitted it to myself. The pants were cut into shorts, to allow the freedom of leg movement. He trimmed the jacket down and cropped it short, adding the flare of the uniformed soldiers to the buttons and shoulders. It was far from the regal apparel I had adorned previously and provided less restriction.

We were no longer in danger in Mourningwood, as the sun shone brightly in the sky. Further down the path we came across a small village of what Logan used to refer to as "marsh dwellers." My brother despised their nature loving attitude that looked to halt the industrialization of the country at every turn. Although these people spoke truth of beauty and love, he took none of it due to his impression that the minds of these people were addled by their consumption of forest mushrooms.

Even so, they were more than decent to me, offering food and hot tea, as well as a place to stay for the coming night. I respectfully declined their offer and moved on only a little farther to where Walter and I found the opening of the large sewer entrance. The stench that was emitted made me gag and wrap my arm over my nose. I wondered how these people lived in such proximity to the horrid smells of the people's waste day in and day out.

"This is it." Walter said matter of fact. "the golden gate to Bowerstone. You know what they say, all sewers lead home."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It had been nearly twenty minutes or so till the dense sewers lightened. Walter was the first to speak. "We've descended into the chasms of the netherworld, stared death in the face, and waded through things so foul I'd rather not think about them. But this is where it gets really ugly."

We emerged from the sewer and I breathed in, hoping to find clean air for the first time in what seemed a lifetime, but what I found was not. The atmosphere was dense with smoke and stink. The smell of dead fish from the rotten harbor and the smog from the factory filled my nostrils. I sputtered and coughed, squinting my eyes to see through the fog that lay upon this town.

"And buried somewhere beneath it all, are the people Logan has left behind." How right he was, for upon looking around, I saw many the embodiments of misery and abandonment. There were several beggars, huddled under scraps of cloth or by the smallest flame. Workers dragged by, hollowed cheeks and eyes. And, the saddest of them all, small children in work clothes, looking only to be bones and skin with soot covering their young faces.

Plastered on the brick walls were posters detailing new products of Reaver Industrial, like the ones in the tunnel of the monorail. There was even one glorifying the new transportation method but had been vandalized making what was termed an industrial wonder into " _Presenting Reaver's Industrial_ **Blu** _nder_ " There were several other signs, but not for advertising reasons. They were wanted signs, coating the city with the faces of enemies of the crown. There was one that seemed to be on every wall, it was of a young, dark skinned girl with long braids pulled into a pony tail. Her ransom was particularly high and was funded by Reaver Industrial.

Walter looked at a young beggar, who could only be a teenager, with pity. "You can see for yourself what life outside the castle is like; poverty, hunger, disease. Wouldn't you want to rebel against it all?" I scoffed in agreement. These people's lives were horrific, and it was all in result of my brother's actions. The familiar rage filled my bloodstream once again.

"You won't see many kids running around here. Most of them have no choice but to work. It's either that, or begging." We crossed a bridge and before us was the largest building in the city, reaching nearly five stories high and as wide as the castle. Dark bellows of grey clouds were emitted from the smoke stacks on the roof. The arches leading into the front fenced area held the initial R plated behind it a large cog. It was obviously the center of Reaver Industrial.

Logan worked very closely with the business tycoon, basing Albion's economy on his industry's production. I recall many meetings between my brother and Reaver but I had never laid eyes upon the man. Logan often kept me shut up in my room during these visits. Rumors were that Reaver had a reputation for collecting important women and men alike, and I suppose my brother looked to restrict the man from obtaining that kind of leverage.

There was a mass group of workers surrounding a center wooden podium, and upon it stood a man in tattered clothes. He looked to be malnourished but held the passion of a young and healthy man. He began to cry, "Reaver is exploiting us!" the people roared in agreement. "We deserve fair pay. We demand better working conditions. We're workers, we're not slaves."

A handsome man had appeared on the balcony overlooking the courtyard; he was dressed in a long white fur coat with black gloves and top hat with goggles strapped to them. In his hand, he held a black and gold walking stick, with which he struck the metal railing. The ring it created was inaudible against the yelling of the crowd.

The protester carried on, "Reaver treats us like animals. We're not gonna take it anymore!" the man banged his cane once again, slightly louder, and a few took notice and stopped cheering instantly. "There's only one thing for it," the white coated man grew tired and pulled out a pistol. "We have to stand up to Reaver." A short fired and the man crumpled to his knees, a dark spot forming at the top of his leg.

The second man spoke, his voice rich and honey coated, but possessed a feeling of utter wrongness to it. "But lying down is so much easier than standing up." He raised his hands and smiled brightly, revealing his gleaming white teeth. "My dear friends, in order to raise moral, I am offering prizes to the most deserving workers." Some of the younger workers faces lifted, hope filling their eyes, but the older ones shrunk back and dropped their heads, shaking them.

The man, who I believed to be Reaver, continued, "The rules that will govern what I like to call 'The Reaver Team Spirit Award' are these. First thing, any worker that so much as murmurs a complaint will be shot." He fired another bullet into the protester's other leg. The workers jumped back in fear. "Secondly any worker who takes more than a three second brake will be shot." Again, he pulled the trigger, landing another in the man's arm, who cried out in agony, calling out for medical aid. "Thirdly any worker who breaks any other rules I have yet formulated will, yes," he chuckled, "you guessed it, be shot." He aimed carefully and shot the man with perfect accuracy in the heart.

I moved to end this evil being, but Walter held me back, shaking his head. Reaver smiled and turned, "You may return to work now. As you know, I'm a generous man and likely to start handing out prizes right away. So, go on! Shoo! Off with you! Chop! Chop!" he let out a bellowing laugh and receded back into the building.

Walter looked at me, steaming and twitching to go to battle. "That's why we're here. That's why Albion needs you." I took deep breathes and relaxed my muscles, but hatred still burned in my heart. "Your brother must have been out of his mind when he handed control of Industrial to Reaver." He shook his head again. "We should go on. It's time you met the Bowerstone Resistance."

We walked with the crowds by the inn, and after the bridge took a left down the stairs. Outside was a wooden door, inconspicuous as anything, Walter said, "Right. This should be the place. Somewhere beyond this door is the face of the Bowerstone Resistance. Ready when you are." I nodded and pushed it open, stepping into the damp underground of Bowerstone Industrial.

"I really love how much time we're spending in caves and sewers these days. No really." Walter sniped sarcastically. His tone turned serious, "I should warn you, I don't know what kind of reception we'll get. I know their leader well enough, but it was never safe for me to come down and meet the rest of them. And they're not exactly the most trusting of people."

We approached a stone arch leading out of the sewers into a storing area, dark, and filled with mountains of ammunition barrels and supply crates. Walter grabbed a burning torch from the wall and called out, "Hello? Hello?" We looked around and were met with only silence. I shrugged, and my mentor offered, "Maybe we've got the wrong place. Let's get, you know, out and…"

But he was cut short by a strong voice barking, "Don't move." I turned to see a large man with a pistol in hand aiming at Walter. I quickly drew my sword but heard the dropping of a hammer on a rifle and saw another man aiming the barrel of his shotgun at my chest. Two, then three more stepped out from behind crates, all with guns pointed straight at us.

"We won't move if you won't shoot, deal?" Walter said slowly.

"You better tell your friend that." The first man said, nodding towards me. I narrowed my eyes.

Walter placed a hand on my arm, "It's all right, just do as he says." I hesitated, then stood and sheathed my sword, but offering no more than that.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" he commanded.

Walter took a careful step forward, but stopped when the man dropped his hammer, "I'm Walter," he started cautiously, "And this is- well that doesn't really matter right now. We're here to speak with Page."

A dark man in the back spoke with a heavy cockney accent, "I say we shoot 'em."

"Listen!" barked Walter. "We're on your side. Just hear us out!"

"We don't make deals with spies. Shoot!"

"Wait!" Walter cried.

Suddenly, a commanding voice shot out through the underground cellar. "Put your weapons down." A woman strutted out of the darkness and towards us. She had a familiarity that I soon remembered to be from the poster on the walls. It was the same ebony skinned lady for whom the guards were instructed to bring down. She wore a leather strapped tunic and a headband that held back the long black dreads on her head. She had long green knitted gloves that reached her elbows with straps along them as well. Freckles were splattered across her nose and her dark brown eyes held a commander's severity.

"I thought I gave the orders around here Kidd." She said.

The man who initially addressed us lowered his head, "Sorry Page. Got a bit carried away."

"Walter." Page addressed. "Glad you're alright."

He chuckled, "And I'm glad you came in when you did."

"I wasn't exactly expecting you. Let's talk somewhere a bit more private." The woman turned and motioned for us to follow. I walked by and raised an eyebrow at Kidd, who slung his rifle over his shoulder with disgruntlement.

We were lead into a room with a heavy metal door closed behind us. It was lit better than the one before, with candles scattered about. "I had this whole plan, you see. But I- well, we ended up leaving the castle earlier than I thought." Walter admitted.

"I heard." Page answered. "Pity, your messages were always useful." My eyebrows furrowed. I hadn't known Walter to have any connections with Bowerstone Industrial. His always laid with military commanders like Swift or a tavern keeper in Millfields. Never had I suspected Walter to be so forward in his treason driven ways. It made me wonder just how long he had been conspiring with Page, who looked barely older than me. When did he have such strong doubts that would drive him to working with an underground rebel alliance? More importantly, why had he never confided in me?

Unfortunately, I would never get my answers to these plethora of questions as my mentor replied, "I can offer you something better." At the center of the room, there was a map, similar to the one in the war room back at the palace. There were several sheets of paper scattered around it, often in wording I could not decipher; coded messages. We stood around it, and Walter spoke first, "Page, I'd like you to meet-"

"I know who she is." She interrupted. Page quickly spat, "I thought you knew better than to bring the princess here." Crossing her arms, she refused to even bother with veiling her heated glare towards me. I turned my gaze away, looking to Walter for help.

"She's not just the princess. She's a Hero."

"Great." Page said dismissively. "Give her a medal."

"No, no. I mean she's a Hero. Like her father."

Page's expression softened, and she turned to me, intrigued. "Really?" she asked. She crossed her arms again, "It doesn't change anything. Your brother is the reason we live underground." bit Page. "He's the reason we fight. How do we know she's any better?"

"Well, let her prove it." Offered my mentor.

"It's not just me she needs to convince. The people of this city need someone they can believe in." she approached me, "Prove to them that they should follow you. Then we'll talk. But now I have work to do." She walked away without another word.

Walter shrugged, "It looks like you have work to do too. You have a whole city to inspire." I looked over to him, a weak smile on my lips, which soon slipped away as I saw color drained from his face and the world around him. Page was paused midway through her adjusting the straps of her left glove.

I sighed as a familiar and mystic voice filled my ears. "Today you have met the true voice of the people of this city." I looked to Page and remembered the protective fire in her eyes as she spoke of the need to gain their trust. It was the same fire my father had for the people of Albion and the same fire my brother lacked. It was something I had to procure in order to become a worthy leader for them. I could never be my father, but I could hope to do right by him and stop my brother from bringing despair to the people our parents so dearly cared for.

Teresa continued, "It is imperative that you win Page and her resistance over to your cause, and just as important that you prove to Bowerstone that you could be its rightful ruler." Her voice slipped away, and Walter nodded with an encouraging smile wrinkling his aging eyes.

I quickly made my way out of the tunnels, ignoring the suspicious glares I encountered from the men and women in the barracks. Trying to win them over with friendly chats and warm smiles would not work. These were people who had endured the suffering of family members from poverty, disease, and Reaver's careless and deadly whims upon his workers. They were not poor laborers as most thought them to be, no, they were warriors fighting for the right to be free. No cause was nobler and so I had to be just that to earn their respect.

With that goal in mind, I set out into the dark and dirty streets. I spent seven months with the people of Bowerstone Industrial. I looked for anyone I could help, giving bits of gold coins to every beggar I saw and offering food to the small children drudging home from the factories. As I stayed these long months, I witnesses the severity of my brother's rule grow ever more oppressing. Taxes were raised to astronomical heights, causing many to lose their homes and their livelihoods. These individuals were thrown out to the streets as beggars. Somewhere near the end of spring, Logan passed a new law decreeing such vagrancy to be illegal and punishable. However, the consequence of disobeying this law was not the warmth of being within a jail cell but being beaten by Logan's special guard.

To avoid this, the homeless often turned to the Bowerstone Industrial Shelter. It was a decrepit building with a lawn crowded with weeds and dead grass along with rotting wooden planks boarding the windows. However, its four walls kept the night's cold away and provided some shelter from the guards looking to bludgeon them.

One day, as I walked past, I noticed a group of beggars huddled outside the door, shouting furiously at a woman who guarded it. I approached, hoping to resolve the issue. The woman spoke first, her soft face holding a look of sincerity as she said, "I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid you'll have to go somewhere else tonight."

The roughest looking vagrant looked desperate and cried, "Somewhere else? And where would that be exactly? Everywhere else been closed down! And I'll freeze to death on the streets, and that's if Logan's goons don't bash my skull in first." Anger carved this man's face, as though he was a threatened animal.

The woman's face grew furious as she shouted, "You think you're the only who has problems?" Her outburst ended as quickly as it arrived, and he face grew soft once more. She lowered her head slightly, "I'm sorry, I'm just… look, I wish I could help you. But I can't." The beggars wondered off, the woman sniffing slightly and pulling her ratted shawl around her tighter.

The lady turned to me and said softly, "I hope you're not looking for somewhere to stay, because this place is about to close for good." She motioned to the deteriorating structure behind her. She sighed, looking drained. "I have no choice. I have to sell the building to pay the ransom." She placed her head in her hands and spoke dejectedly. "It's the only way to get my fiancé back." The woman straightened her posture and spoke confidently, "I tried to work up the courage to rescue him. That damn Ferret and his gang, they've got everyone living in fear," her sureness crumbled as she admitted, "even me."

The woman finally noted my pistol and sword and guessed at what exactly I was capable of. Her face brightened, and her eyes filled with hope. She spoke quickly, "But if I had someone like you with me… you could go in there and show them what fear really is. We could rescue my fiancé, put Ferret out of business, and I could keep the shelter open! Oh, please! If not for me, do it for the poor people who depend on this place." I didn't object to this as I had dealt with ruffians like this with Saker. A few more didn't frighten me a bit. There was also the fact that this woman was willing to risk everything she had in order to save her love, and I remember that feeling all too well, despite the time spent away from the castle.

"Of course, I will help you." I said, giving a comforting smile.

Relief washed over her face and I saw the drops of tears moisten the corners of her eyes. "Oh, thank you!" she cried gratefully. "My poor love, it's been agony being apart from him. And it's about time those thugs faced justice, the rough kind. They've been harassing the local homeless for weeks, but this! This is just outrageous!" She ran a couple feet from the building, motioning for me to follow quickly. "I know where they are! They demanded I bring the ransom in a week's time." She bore a look of excitement and she proclaimed, "But I'll bring them something better!"

Not far from the shelter was a row of deteriorating homes blocked together into one strip, sewn together by brick and tar. The woman climbed the stairs to one of the doors and knocked harshly. I heard the viewing slot of the door slide open and a gruff voice drawl, "Linda. You just cost me a bit of gold luv. I bet ol' Harry it'd take you the full week to get the money. You're an industrious one ain'tcha?" he snickered.

Linda spoke tiredly, "Just open the bloody door Keith. Let's have done with this."

The wooden door creaked open, Ferret's man saying, "Right, Mr. Ferret's down those stairs." As I walked into the filthy living space, the man reached for his gun shouting, "Woah, hang on, who's your friend?" I bore my most menacing look and glared at the man, not reaching for my weapon in order to stave off actual conflict so soon.

Linda spoke for me, "In your parlance, she's the 'bagman'. And that gold doesn't leave her hands until my fiancé's walked out of your fetid little den." She looked fiercely at Keith, brushing her auburn hair out of her eyes and then resting her hand on her hip.

Keith stepped back, "Alright no need to get all uppity." He pointed to me and spoke harshly, "You just watch yourselves around Mr. Ferret or things'll get unfriendly fast." I sneered at him and walked with Linda to the back of the kitchen area where lay a hatch to the cellar. I followed her down the ladder to the deep part of the underground. We passed through a door into a large room holding more than massive barrels holding maturing ale. Several tables held gruesome looking bandits and renegades all leering at the two women walking into Ferret's den. However, Linda and I kept our dignity and continued to look straight ahead at the man standing at the opposite doorway.

He stood within the next room with two guards guarding the entrance in. He was short and squat with a head devoid of all hair. The clothes he bore were intended to be that of higher position but were mismatched and slightly musty. However, the voice with which he spoke with sounded of a persuasive salesman with a silver tongue. "Ah Linda," he began. "I cannot tell you how elated I am to have this unfortunate situation brought to a satisfying resolution. Your associate can dispense with her burden by piling the funds upon the table." He smiled smugly.

"There's no gold Ferret." Said Linda, crossing her arms across her chest. "Now you can cough up my fiancé from whatever filthy corner you're keeping him in, or my 'associate' is going to start collecting heads and piling them upon the table." I smirked and unsheathed my sword, swinging it several times within my hand before balancing it over my shoulder.

Ferret's smug look never faded, and, in fact, broadened. "My initial judgment of your character was clearly misjudged. You possess some heart after all. Lads, tear it out." The door shut before Ferret and his nearby guards unsheathed their swords. They, however, we not quick enough, as I was able to land two devastating blows to each of their chests. The rest came charging at us, but Linda and I both equipped our pistols and aimed them at their heads. The dim-witted men also were storing gun powder reserves within this cellar which were extremely helpful in blasting several of the bandits to ash.

Once all the men were dead, Linda began pounding on the door to the next room. She shouted through the iron, "Your men are dead Ferret! Unless you want to join them, let us in!"

A muffled voice shouted, "It's open!"

I cranked the wheel of the door and it creaked open, revealing Ferret sitting alone near a burning brazier. Linda drew her pistol and aimed it at his egg-shaped head. "You brought this on yourself, Ferret." She spat. "This didn't have to happen."

The criminal raised his hands and implored, "It still doesn't! We merely got off on the wrong foot. I'm no threat to you without my men, and I'm only too happy to return your fiancé. I can be quite accommodating." He bore a large grin that soon melted quickly as Linda dropped the hammer on her pistol.

"Get on with it then." She growled.

"Well… the thing is…" Ferret sputtered. "He's actually not on the premises, exactly, at the present time. He's incarcerated within a nearby… facility, shall we say. That access hatch will provide you with, well, access." He motioned to the large gaping hole behind him from which a foul smell emitted.

"The sewer?" Linda scoffed. "You fellows are a sophisticated lot." She looked to me a pleaded, "Please, go and get him, I'll keep an eye on Ferret."

As I walked toward Ferret's "access hatch" I heard him mumble, "A gun. I really did mischaracterize you."

"Yeah" Linda retorted. "Well, I live in a bad neighborhood. I wonder whose fault that is. Now, don't move."

I could hear the sewer waters below, so I knew the fall would be cushioned. I took a breath, then leapt forward. The distance wasn't too far, about ten meters or so. As I resurfaced and acquainted myself with my surroundings, I felt my heart drop. There, sitting on the dirt mound above the water was the one man I had been dying to see.

"Elliot!" I cried out.

He looked up, startled by hearing my voice. I swam quickly to him, rushing to embrace him. He stuttered, "I-I thought… I thought you were…" I pulled him in and wrapped my arms around his muscular frame. I buried my face into his neck, enjoying the feeling of having him near me again, even if we both smelt entirely awful. He pulled away, "I thought you were gone! Do you know how hard I've been trying to forget you?" His face displayed the pain he had to endure for the last year since we had been parted.

I looked up into his eyes and sincerely spoke, "I never forgot you."

"The last time I saw you, that day in the throne room," he closed his eyes and visibly shuddered. "That was the most horrific day of my life." My heart twisted. I knew it was Elliot who had to deal with the consequences of my actions regarding the protest, and while it was the hardest decision of my life, I was now able to see the physical proof of his anguish, and it tore me up inside. I understood that what I had done was selfish, but I couldn't bear to see Elliot dead. I would have never been able to live with myself.

A sound rang throughout the sewer, one that I had heard before, and, had Elliot not been there, would only had been a nuisance to me. It was cold laugh, originating from the vile little things I had encountered in the monorail caverns. While I knew that I could take them with ease, I worried for Elliot's safety. I had only just been reunited with him, I would not lose him to a pack of Hobbes.

I turned to Elliot, "Today's not going to be great either if we don't get you out of here. Come on." I grasped his hand, my heart aching at how wonderful it was to do so once again. It felt so very natural. We wove around the various objects discarded by the citizens of Bowerstone Industrial, careful to breathe through our mouths alone. While Elliot seemed eager to leave his island of rubbish behind, he also seemed a bit hesitant in following me out.

The question of whether it was because it was I who was rescuing him, or other variables was answered fairly quickly. "I can't do this." He stated firmly. "You can't save me again like that day."

I shook my head, slightly hurt by his words. "This isn't like that." I swore. "This time, no one gets hurt." I truly meant that. The day in the throne room scarred me. I was only a child then, and my brother had forced me to commit one of the most atrocious crimes in my entire lifetime. However, it shaped me as a leader. I valued life far more than Logan ever would, and I would let that drive my future decisions. No one would die for me.

After a few more turns in the winding sewers, he sighed, "Just when I think I have everything sorted out, you come back into my life." I stayed silent, leading us further into the tunnels. We emerged into a large corridor, marshy grass growing from the sewer water. I ran across it, pulling Elliot behind me as we dodged a swarm of bats. But what lied beyond that corridor was something even more foul. Blood spattered the walls as slabs of meat hung from chains. A figure lied upon the ground, a soldier in tattered clothes. I knelt beside him, examining his cuts and gashes. Dead.

"He must have been sent down here to investigate. The city guard still is unaware of what lurks beneath their feet." I muttered.

"What exactly is down here?" Elliot asked, voice revealing slight panic. I ignored him. He would find out soon enough.

This revelation did not take long to appear, as when we rounded a corner into yet another corridor, a band of the wretched creatures awaited us. "Hobbes?" Elliot cried. I unsheathed my sword and charged toward the devils, slicing through their slimy skin as easily as a knife through butter. I watched as a smaller, feebler hobbe recognized that Elliot was unarmed, unable to defend himself and rushed at him for the kill. Instinctually I fired a ball of fire that knocked him straight into the dirt, his ragged clothing smoking.

"I've never seen anything like that!" Elliot said, astounded as I wiped my blade clean on the torn clothing of a very dead hobbe. "It was like something out of… Walter's stories… about your father." Elliot stopped and looked at me with intensity as he began to understand. "You're a hero." I grabbed his hand once more and continued to lead him through the network of tunnels.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be." I answered honestly, chuckling at the truth of it.

"Things are becoming clearer to me now. When Logan started to behave so appallingly, I told myself he wanted to prove his strength by 'seeing off' a few agitators." We continued through a few more tribes of hobbes who had made the sewers their homes. Eventually all had cleared, and the only thing left was to escape the tunnels and return to… to what exactly? What lied beyond was Linda, worried sick for her love to emerge safely. What was to happen to Elliot and me? Was I prepared to lose him yet again?

My thoughts were interrupted as Elliot's voice rang out against the cavern walls. "Thank you, for saving me." He said simply. I nodded, but he continued. "I don't just mean today. I should have thanked you back in the throne room, but I was just… I just felt so… guilty." He hung his head.

I stopped and placed my hand on his shoulder, looking straight into his eyes, "I made the choice that day."

"And I hated you for it." I felt my heart drop as he confirmed what I had already thought. The actual truth of it struck me harder than I imagined. "Feeling that those people died because of me." His voice became choked and he shook his head in sorrow. "It was awful beyond words." Tears stung my eyes as I truly grasped how much my decision had affected the person I loved most.

"But," he continued. "There was something worse. Deep inside, I felt… happy." He looked disgusted with himself. "I felt happy, even as they were dragged away, that I was still alive." He hung his head in shame, "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Anybody would feel what you did. It was a horrible situation and the only one to blame is Logan."

Elliot nodded, obviously still remorseful but willing to move on. "Well, now that I've said all that, thank you." He smiled.

I returned it, "You're welcome." I grabbed his hand once more a continued down the path into what seemed to be a maintenance entrance into the sewers. "Should be almost back to Linda." I attempted to say in an upbeat fashion but came out horribly forced.

Elliot groaned, "Oh, bloody hell, Linda. What am I going to say to her?" He placed his hand over his face and I remained quiet, not trusting whatever would escape my mouth.

We eventually made it to a metal door that most likely led back to Ferret's den. However, before I opened it, Elliot shouted, "Wait. I have to tell you something." I turned to see him standing there, with a pained look on his face. He took a breath and began, "Linda is the most… well, she's the second most amazing woman I've ever met. She started that shelter from nothing, and she keeps it going despite Ferret and Reaver. Working with her felt right after all those years in the castle doing nothing." I understood this completely. Linda did seem to be a pure hearted and selfless woman who strived to help those in need. It made complete sense that Elliot was drawn to her. "Then, somehow, it became about more than work." A terrible feeling rush through my body that only the beast jealousy could create but subsided just as quickly. "I felt something I hadn't since you. And now you're back."

Elliot shook his head. "This is maddening. Here I am, pouring my heart out and you haven't said anything. Do you want to give me a consoling hug and say, 'do the honorable thing' Or grab me and kiss me and tell me to come back?" I swallowed hard, my heart yearning, no, aching to do the latter. Being apart from him and believing that he despised me tore my heart and soul open and seeing him again only poured salt into those wounds.

But I couldn't. It was wrong. Wrong for me to push for the breaking of a promise. Wrong for me to wish heart ache on Linda. Wrong for me to bring Elliot back into my world which was sure to bring only grief and despair. No. I would not do this to him.

"Seems like you have a good thing with Linda. I'm about to start a war I might not survive. I think we both know this wasn't meant to be." The words left my mouth leaving a sting, but my heart was saddened by its truth. I honestly believed that Elliot and I had no future, and I was grateful that I didn't have to lie to him.

My first love looked stunned for a moment, but then pulled me into his arms, wrapping me in a warm embrace, such as the one in the palace gardens. "Yes. I guess we do." He said quietly over my shoulder, admitting it to himself. "I love you." He placed a soft kiss on my cheek. I smiled, hoping that it would convey that I felt the same, as I could not bring myself to vocalize it. He gave my hand a squeeze, assuring me that it did.

I opened the steel door, its hinges creaking as it revealed Linda lying on the ground. "Linda!" Elliot cried, rushing to his fiancée's side. His face was carved with concern, showing how genuinely he cared for the woman. There was no doubting now that he would be happy with her.

Her eyes fluttered open and sat up slowly. Once seeing her love's face, she gasped, "Elliot! She then groaned softly, placing her hand gingerly at the back of her head. "My head… that weasel Nigel Ferret must have struck me while my back was turned." Her anger melted away as she smiled at Elliot, "Oh darling, thank goodness you're alright." She jumped into his arms, and he embraced her warmly and protectively.

Linda turned to me, her eyes glistening with tears of relief. "You saved the love of my life. I'm forever in your debt. Thank you for everything."

"Of course." I said. I withdrew a small pouch of coins from my belt, presenting it to her and Elliot who both stared at me in disbelief. "Take this, for the shelter. Not many possess the bravery to protect the citizens of Albion against the tyranny of my brother. I hope that one day, I can restore the shelter to accommodate all who seek asylum." The two stuttered out their gratitude and I smiled in return.

I left the cellar with Jax by my side, hearing Elliot and Linda exchange "I love you"s and I felt even more confident in my decision to leave Elliot in my past. The only thing my future would consist of was overthrowing my brother and that would have a great cost. I would not have Elliot be a part of that price. After all, I planned to win this war.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The word of my aid to Linda and Elliot did not take long to reach Page. Immediately, I was requested to return to the Rebel Headquarters and receive my direction. I hastily traveled to the secret entrance into the tunnels as I knew that this was when I would gain Page and her men as much needed allies. Without her valiant and brave rebels and her strategic finesse, we would not stand a chance against Logan and his men. Whatever she asked of me, I would do. However, I was fully aware that she understood this, and I worried what she would use this advantage for.

I entered the sewers, hearing no movement or voices that would indicate the presence of people, shielding the existence of the headquarters from any guard or person who stumbled upon the door. I traveled through its corridors, nodding at the rebels I had spent the last seven months with, grateful that they no longer eyed me with distrust, but rather looked on me with approval.

A certain major swaggered toward me, pipe in hand and mustache groomed. Jax barked happily at the familiar face. "Ah," Swift smirked. "The rebel princess." I shook his outstretched hand firmly. "I'm on my way to the castle to report to your brother and to try to find out what I can about his troop movements while I'm there." I thanked him for his risk in returning to the castle. I was very honored to possess the trust of a man as brave as Swift. Of course, I had to earn it, but his faith was unwavering after the fight at the Mourningwood Fort. "Ben's in the back room, arguing with Page. Not an entirely unexpected situation." He chuckled and shook his head, taking a long draw from his wooden pipe. "Ben seems to have a way with the fairer sex. A strange, troubled way." He laughed good-naturedly and then walked away after a cheery, "Tally-ho!"

The Major was correct, as when I entered the room, Ben aimed his conversation at a deeply uninterested Page. Walter stood by, arms crossed, chuckling at Ben's attempt to gain her attention. "I'm telling you," he said with exasperation. "I downed three hollow men with one shot, it's true!" He cried as the rebel raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

"I've never trusted a soldier in my life. I'm not going to start now." She said simply, shuffling papers on the map and singling out a crumpled one.

I stood near the door, watching as Ben turned to Walter to defend his claim, "Will you tell her, Walter?"

"I'm not getting involved." Said Walter.

I laughed, and Ben's eyes darted to mine. He tapped Page on the shoulder, who recoiled away with distrust, and pointed toward me. "Look, look, there she is. Ask her yourself."

Page sighed, finally making eye contact with the brash soldier, "Oh, give it a rest."

"Fine." Ben pouted, reminding me of a young child when deprived of attention. "I'll just stand here quietly then, shall I?" he grumbled.

"You know for a princess," Page said, turning toward me, "you're a pretty decent person. People out there are starting to believe in you." I thought I saw a trace of a smile on her lips, but it could have been the flickering of the candles casting shadows. I was grateful for her words anyhow.

"I knew you two would get along in the end." Said Walter, beaming proudly at us. I had always thought Walter to be a father figure to me, and I a daughter to him. However, with Page in the picture, I could see he took pride in her as well. Shame at one point she wanted to make me pay for Logan's doings, but as long as his two girls were getting along I suppose.

Reflecting upon it now, perhaps I was jealous. Before I knew of Page, I thought it was only I that Walter confided in. And perhaps it was even more than Walter's admiration that I was envious of. Page was a passionate and valiant leader who became a symbol of hope to the people of Bowerstone Industrial. And while this made her an essential ally, it also made her a possible threat. She may not be a Hero by birth, but she possessed the bravery and heart of one.

"Thank you for taking an interest in my social life, but we have bigger problems now." She said harshly, which only broadened Walter's grin.

After composing himself, he nodded, "Reaver."

"He's been bleeding the city dry for years now, but it's never been this bad." She explained. "We decided it was time to hit back." I almost remarked that Walter seemed to have more input on how to lead the revolution than the Hero, but quickly realized how childish that was. Yes, I had learned a lot since I left the castle, but I had neither Walter nor Page's experience. At this time, my place was to take orders.

"A small group of fighters managed to get into his mansion, but they never made it out." My mentor reported, shaking his head.

Page obviously did not believe their lives to be lost. "I believe they're still alive." Then, the most peculiar thing happened. She smiled, at me nonetheless, and this time I was sure it wasn't a trick of the light. "You're going to help me find them."

"Reaver hosts some sort of fancy secret society parties every week." Said Walter. "We don't know what goes on, but we do know what the guests look like. It's the perfect chance to sneak in."

Page turned to the table behind her and grasped a bundle of frills and ruffles. "Here," she piled the fabric in my arms and then handed me dainty little dancing shoes. "You'll have to wear this." I now understood her smirking from earlier. The clothes were ghastly. Perhaps, had I still lived in the castle as a princess, I would not have thought so. But after a year of dressing for convenience, this was a nightmare.

"Great." Chirped Ben. "Where's my costume?" He looked around for his own fashion disaster, and when was met with silence, cried, "What? I still can't come? What, even after the three hollow men story? Honestly, this is as bad as the army."

"Everyone out." Page commanded. "I have a party to dress for."

Ben bore a cheeky grin as he said, "I'll stay and make sure no one spies on you."

" _Everyone_. Out."

"You know, I'm starting to have serious doubts about our relationship." Ben said, feigning hurt, but was only met with another one of Pages exasperated sighs. "I knew I should have gone to the castle with Swiftie." He grumbled to himself as he left the room.

As I followed I heard Page shout to me, "I just love how soldiers can come in and out of our secret hideout now." I smiled slightly, giving her a small shrug. She pressed her index finger to her temple. "Whatever you do, please don't let Mr. Finn follow you. I've had enough of him for one day. I'll see you at Reaver's manor." I left her to change and escaped to a secluded area of the headquarters to do the same.

The outfit was probably very fashionable at the time with the upper class. It was a sunshine yellow complimented with a navy blue. The current style was apparently a half-moon ruffled skirt encircling a pair of trousers, of which I did not complain as it gave me plenty of movement. The matching blouse heaved up my breasts to an unimaginable height and donned the same frills as the skirt. The most crucial aspects of the ensemble were the headpieces. The pale yellow hat and powdered wig coupled with the mask resembling a fox that would protect my anonymity.

I made my way to the mansion in Millfields, ignoring the strange looks I received from those in Industrial and fetching a coach at Bowerstone Market. I was careful not to speak, knowing that if I did I could risk jeopardizing the lives of those within Reaver's clutches, however, the driver had no issue in guessing where I was headed. Millfields is the center of all things posh within Albion, hence Reaver's inclination to reside there. It's a quaint little village nestled near Silverpine Forest and wrapped around Bower Lake. However, it takes a little under half a day to travel there, as the rich tend to distance themselves from the lower-class, not only due to their distaste of "their kind" but also the extreme loathing that most have towards the privileged.

I arrived at the gates of the mansion near midnight and tipped the driver handsomely in order to ensure any suspicions he had were kept quiet. The iron-wrought gates were plated with the same symbol of Reaver Industries, and were opened by a bleary-eyed guard, obviously only waiting till the end of his shift. A large silhouette of the man of the hour was illuminated by the moonlight, a statue depicting his cool natured self as he leaned casually on his cane. It seemed Reaver and my brother had similar god-complexes.

Page awaited me outside the large wooden doors, her costume and mask matching mine save the magenta hue it possessed. She studied me as I approached her, then stated, "That really does suit you. Brings out the color in your eyes." I couldn't tell whether she was mocking me or not. She, however, truly looked like a noble woman. Her dark braids were hidden under a powdered wig and whatever freckles she had were covered by makeup. And while she may have been viewed as beautiful at any gala or ball, her appearance sickened me. I preferred her buckles and leather to the frills and heels. She was a fighter, not a lady.

This truth was reaffirmed as she told me not to worry about concealing my weapons, as she had hers strapped to her back and hip in plain sight. I trusted her instruction and nodded as she said, "Shall we?" I knocked on the door delicately, as a lady should, or so I had been taught from a little girl.

The door was opened by a small man adorning a suit with Reaver's sigil stitched into the breast. He brushed back his red hair behind his ear and crossed his arms, "Bit late, aren't you?" he spoke with a lisp. "You've missed half the rituals and all the drinking." He gestured to the other nobles slumped over in chairs just a few feet from the entrance, wine spilled down their front. "All we've got left is fizzy pop."

Page looked a little lost, not encountering what she had thought Reaver's parties would be. "We… apologize." She stuttered, attempting to sound as one who came from a life of luxury would.

"Oh yeah?" the man cocked his head. "Well, just give me the password and we'll forget all about it, all right?"

I felt a panic rise in my stomach, and I saw the same spread across Page's face. Why did we not think of their being some sort of precaution other than if we looked the part? "The password…" she stammered.

Reaver's man laughed, "Nah, I'm just pulling your leg. Come on in." he waved us into the grand hall. The doors shut behind us, dulling the sound of crickets chirping in the summer night. Our heeled shoes clicked on the tiled floor as we followed the man through the manor. "Master Reaver'll be happy to have a few more conscious people around for the final ceremony." He said, looking over his shoulder at us.

What was this final ceremony I wondered? Most likely humiliating peasants or some other vile act against those lesser than him. We entered into the dining room to find even more of Albion's upper class sprawled out, inebriated and unconscious. "I wasn't kidding about the fizzy pop though. These lightweights drank the lot. There's probably some cooking sherry left in the kitchen if you're desperate." He waited for our response but was met with silence. "No? Don't blame you. Never touch the stuff myself. Well, except in the mornings." He chortled, his lone silver earing glinting in the dim light.

He looked over his shoulder again, looking the two of us over with greedy eyes and a sly smile. "I can sort you out a nice orgy later on, should the mood take you. What do you say?"

Page's face twisted into disgust. "Just keep walking, you strange, little man."

He threw his hands up in surrender. "Of course, of course! You'll have to pardon me, miss. I do have a habit of spouting the odd vulgarity. Master Reaver has often brought out his whip to rectify that very flaw in my character." With every new thing I learned about our gracious host, the more demonized he became. Whips, rituals, and orgies? How could my brother work with such a twisted man?

At the end of a hallway, we reached a set of doors closed to us. "It's just this way." The man said turning to us. He grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Oh, you'll have such fun. Not 'drinks and orgies' fun, you know, but it will be a real laugh." He winked and added, "I'm sure."

I reached for the handle, but he stepped before me, "Now, there are some ground rules. Master Reaver insists that nobody carries weapons into the ballroom. There have been some accidents." He explained.

Page bore a hard look and narrowed her eyes, "I'm afraid I need to keep mine. I'm here to find some friends."

His eyes widened, and he smiled brightly. "Oh! You're the brave, noble rebels! Why didn't you say so? I'm an oppressed proletarian myself!" he proclaimed. "We're practically comrades! If you just go through these doors, you can sneak past the party and rescue your fellow revolutionaries."

So, they were alive! Page rushed through the doors and into the adjoining room. It was devoid of any furniture save an iron cage holding the same man I met when first entering the rebel headquarters. "There's one of my men!" She cried, running to him. Grasping at the bars she looked frantically for any wounds on him. "Kidd are you all right?"

"Get out! Now!" Kidd yelled.

Page ignored him. "Where are the others?"

"All dead." He reported. "Reaver knew you'd come. He's been waiting for you!"

My heart lurched as the sounds of mechanics rang out and the cage began to ascend. I clutched the bars and held tight as my feet left the ground. "I'll get him out." I promised.

As I was straining to climb towards the latch, a voice rang out that boiled my blood. It was the same melodious and malicious tone I had heard my first day in Industrial. "My, my, my." It began. "More busy little bees here to steal Reaver's honey. So industrious. So committed. So bloody annoying." My fingers began to slip, and my arms trembled from trying to hang on, even as the cage ceased to move. "When will you people learn to enjoy life."

Page called out from bellow, "I'll enjoy killing you, does that count?"

"Oh, you're just full of spunk aren't you? A true Heroine." Reaver remarked and then teased, "You must be lightning under the bed sheets." He chuckled, joined by other voices. "And now, as promised, the evening's _piece de la resistance_. Another piece of the resistance." I heard the cranking of a lever followed by, " _Voila_."

The cage lurched upward, and I lost my grip, landing on the tiled floor with a mortified Page. I looked up to see a balcony overhanging the room with our host and several other nobles gazing down upon us, like spectators. "Do try to put on a good show for my guests, won't you?" Reaver implored.

"Show?" Page scoffed. "You expect us to entertain you?"

"But of course! It's just a game, my little sweet." He said with feigned innocence. "The Wheel of Misfortune." He pronounced to his guests, gesturing toward the object against the wall. It was a metal circle with a clock-like hand on it, with several vague pictures lining the outside, such as a paw print, or a skull. "It's rather simple. I spin, you die, we watch! Really..." he chuckled. "It's a riot."

Reaver lightly tapped his cane twice, triggering the metal gears to whirl within the wheel, spinning wildly until resting on the depiction of a Hobbe. "Why no less than the most unsightly, most obnoxious creatures ever to contaminate this world. Superb." Reaver pronounced, describing the little demons as if they were a gourmet meal being served to Page and me. However, I highly doubted that Reaver thought we could be downed by a pack of Hobbes. No, this was just to show his guests what we were capable of, making our deaths more theatric and tragic in the future.

A metal gate to our left cranked open, leading into a small hallway. Page and I looked at each other cautiously and understood that there was nothing else for us to do than venture forth. I gripped my sword hilt readily, awaiting the opportunity to slice down the creatures Reaver had captured for his own amusement. In my eyes, it was a merciful death, far more than what these gremlins deserved.

On the other side was a small arena like room, with bridges leading from the many entrances over the large crevice surrounding the middle ground. Above was another balcony on which Reaver's guests stood, gazing down like gods. This infuriated me.

Reaver burst through the doors to the ledge with flourish as he cried, "You will laugh, you will cry, you will have your sinews gnawed upon. Bring out the Hobbes." I heard the clatter of cages being opened, and then the rush of Hobbes into the ring. Page and I stood in the middle, back to back, firing our weapons at each one that sprinted towards us. Soon, our pistols couldn't keep up, and we were forced to draw our swords.

"Is it just me, or do they feel squishy when you hit them?" Page asked with disgust. It dawned on me that Page most likely had never thought Hobbes to be real, let alone faced them in battle. I laughed, sticking my blade straight into the stomach of a soldier Hobbe, then using its dropped blunderbuss to shoot one off a bridge into the pit below.

Overhead, you could hear the lisp of Reaver's man, Barry Hatch, as he pronounced, commentating the battle. "A good hit for the valiant rebel there!" After Page had slammed the hilt of her weapon into the head of a magi Hobbe, he shouted, "Oh! That Hobbe doesn't know what day it is! Then again, it probably never did." A chorus of chuckled emitted from the spectators.

We continued to fight, and Hobbes continued to venture forth into the arena. They seemed endless. Above, Barry Hatch commented, "I don't know about you, but I find Hobbes rather sexy. I like a big mouth, in fact, I _require_ a big mouth." Disgusted I looked up to see the little man wink at me. I grabbed the nearest Hobbe and shoved my sword down its mouth, smiling as Barry turned to gag.

"When will this end?" I yelled to Page. We were both sweating from the immense amount of exercise we had achieved fighting for our lives.

After a tremendously large Hobbe was slaughtered by Page and me, the audience awed, sad for the defeat of their favored. To console the crowd, Barry bowed his head and said respectfully, "He died doing what he loved. Entertaining rich people!" He laughed.

Finally, the last magi Hobbe was slain by a fiery ball hurled at his chest, knocking him into the crevice below. Page and I looked up to Reaver who didn't seem very satisfied with our performance, as we had not a scratch on us. "One almost feels sorry for those repugnant beasts. Then one shrugs and waits for the next piece of carnage."

The guests began filing out back into the central room where we would await our next trial. We, too, were granted passage back into the hallway leading back. Page wiped her brow, breathing heavy. "Reaver's worse than I thought. What kind of mind dreams up something like this?" she questioned, wiping Hobbe blood off on her dress, which would have caused a noblewoman to shriek at the sullying of such fine garments.

Upon reaching the main room, Reaver clacked his cane to gain our attention. "Like the tales of my greatest conquests, the wheel simply demands to be spun. What delicious fate will it deliver this time?" The wheel whirred to life, its gears stopping the hand upon the symbol of the skull. "Ah, it's just not a real party without the elegant shuffles of these gentlemen. So hallowed, yet so hollow." Reaver grinned at his own eloquent brilliance and motioned for the guests to follow him into the next room.

Page took a deep breath. "Come on. The sooner we make our way through this sick game, the sooner we'll get to kill Reaver." I saw her eyes grow hard and determined. This was the only thing that mattered. She would do anything for her people, and the only thing she believed would protect them was to kill Reaver. I understood now why Page could never be a Hero, and why Walter needed me to lead the revolution. Page was too near-sighted, unable to think into the future and look at the big picture. The evil that would end if Reaver was slain was definite, but that alone would not save the poor. Logan needed to be defeated as well.

The next room was a graveyard, gravestones scattered around, stolen from Mourningwood, the mass grave of Albion. "Let the tearing of limbs commence! Chop! Chop!" cried Reaver. And so it did, but it was neither Page nor I who's limbs were torn. The hollow men stood no chance against Page and I, as we managed quite well with pistols, swords, and magic. Page initially had to overcome the shock of seeing the dead rise again, but soon grasped the concept of it rather well.

After the last skeleton was returned to the earth, we heard a wistful Reaver speak, "What a heartbreaking performance. The poetry of life and death was unmistakable. And you had to spoil it all by not dying." He grudgingly retreated back and spun the wheel again, landing on the sign of a hawk, the mercenaries of Mistpeak. Reaver admitted to hiring them with the gold he took from the people. I reminded myself to talk with Saker about the integrity of his men, but then realized that he could do nothing to prevent them from going where the money was. That was their nature, after all.

Page looked elated with the new trial. "Mercenaries. Finally, something I know how to fight." It was obvious she did, as she took out over half of the men we faced. She fought them with such ferocity and I knew it was personal. These were the type of goons hired by Ferret to extort her people.

Reaver applauded us as the last man fell, admitting that he had not paid them yet, and thus saved him money. I grimaced at the thought of doing this wretched man a favor. I could feel a twinge of exhaustion, as we must have been fighting for what could very well have been hours. My muscles ached at the continuous bouts of exertion and small beads of sweat formed underneath my powdered wig. I wanted nothing more to be done with this ludicrous game Reaver forced us into.

The gate rattled open and Page and I made our way toward the center once more. The rebel was obviously showing signs of the strains we had been put through, even more so than I. Her left sleeve was stained crimson by a wound given to her, by what creature I did not know. She wiped her forearm against her forehead and spat blood onto the ground. "I've seen terrible things in my time, but never so much death… Reaver's going to pay for this." she swore.

Page tore into the center room and with new found rage shouted, "Enough games, Reaver."

Reaver feigned a hurt disposition, as if he was a small child upset that his little pets would not partake in his play time. "Oh, but they're such fun, and my guests do so enjoy fun." The nobles around him murmured in agreement, the ladies hiding their smiles behind jeweled fans. "Time for another spin!"

And the wheel did as Reaver commanded, cogs whirring once more. The symbol the wheel landed upon was unfamiliar to me. Its crude depiction showing a creature with wrappings covering its mouth and what looked to be horns. Reaver gasped slightly, and giddily reported, "Oh, now this is a very special round. Wait till you see what treasures I have in store for you next.

We traveled onward towards the next room and Page cried, "What now? We can't keep fighting forever…" I understood her, these clothes were heavy and hot, and the strange gust of warm wind coming from the next room did nothing to help. But what other choice did we have? We had to push on.

As we approached the entrance, drifts of golden sand began to emerge, piling against the stone walls of the connecting hallways. My feet sank, grains falling in the gaps of my shoes. We trudged through the archway, the added resistance increasing our fatigue. However, the room was empty. From large stone pillars to the hills and valleys of sand, there was not a living thing to be seen.

Reaver commentated "I met these delightful creatures in a rather inhospitable land, far from the turgid green of Albion. I do love to bring two cultures together. And see which one dies first."

Barry Hatch piped in, "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you… the Sand Furies!"

On cue, a dark figure dropped from the shadows on the top of a pillar in front of us, joined by two others bursting from the sand. They were female figures dressed in all brown, from their cloth boots to their hoods masking their bright glowing eyes. Two horns emerged from either sides of their heads and each bore large curved swords with strange markings etched upon the blades. The moved with such swiftness and grace that they almost seemed to be dancing upon the sand, unhindered by its shifting nature. They sprinted towards us, leaping off pillars and rocks.

The first that reached me struck hard and fast, one blow after another. I parried effectively and as I swung to cleave a gash in the creature's stomach, she vaulted over me, landing a swipe of her blade across my shoulder. The wound burned and I could feel blood soaking into the surrounding fabric. Angered, I unsheathed my pistol and landed three well-placed blows into her chest. The Fury clutched her chest and shouted something in her foreign tongue before collapsing to the ground.

"It should be a crime to kill such a graceful creature! Somebody, please, arrest that rebel!" Hatch cried.

"Get away from me!" I head Page shout, and I turned to see her backed against a pillar with two creatures posed to strike. I shoved my sword through the stomach of one and Page was able to finish off the other. As soon, as the last one fell, two more sprung up from the sand. One charged at me, using my bent leg as a platform to leap over me. But before she touched the ground, I reached up, took her head between my hands and jerked sharply, hearing the bones of her neck crack.

"Oh, that's a real shame!" said Reaver.

Countless more leapt from beneath the sand or from the ceiling, and each one we defeated. After it was all done, Reaver clapped from above. "Wasn't that utterly enthralling? Of course, you should be ashamed of yourselves, treating foreign visitors in such an unsociable manner." He chided.

"I've really had enough of this." I said, looking about at the numerous corpses.

When we arrived once more at the wheel, Reaver seemed to have had lost his amusement for us. "You holier-than-thou idealists, always thinking in the simplest, most binary of ways. But I quite agree. This game grows tiresome. And my guests grow… restless"

Reaver's little henchmen slinked his way to the side of the noble woman he had been leering at and suavely stated, "No need to get restless sweetheart. Barry Hatch is here to take care of you. His hand rounded her hips and clutched the tail of her dress, leaning in to whisper something I couldn't quite catch from below, but could guess its implications. As I watched him spin her in a dance-like fashion, I could faintly hear the gears of the wheel whirring. I saw the woman's eyes start to glow and her hand become distorted, as if the muscles beneath the skin were morphing into something else, and my pulse quickened.

"You're a rough one ain't ya? Hatch chuckled. "I like that in a woman. You're just…" His words were cut short as he looked back to the noble lady and saw a large clawed hand clasped around his hand. He stretched an arm out to his master and called for help but was soon set upon by the large beast as Reaver just stood by and watched.

Page gasped in horror as the little man's screams echoed throughout the chamber, reverberating on the marble floors. Soon all could be heard from Berry Hatch were the gurgles from his eviscerated throat.

Reaver sighed as he looked down at the carnage. "Oh, dear. Do you brutes have any idea how hard it is to find good staff?" The beast continued to delve into its prey, Hatch's heavily decorated hand hanging limply over the balcony. Reaver carried on, "Still, one might as well enjoy the show. What's the use of a secret society without a little secret, after all." All the guests had now transformed, leaping down into the chamber with us. Reaver motioned to the wheel which I now saw was set upon the picture of the beasts.

"This can't be happening…" Page cried. "What are they?!"

"Balverines." I stated. Growing up I had heard stories of the Balverines of Silverpine, the large monsters with razor sharp teeth and claws the length of a grown man's forearms. These beasts were all I had imagined and far worse. Dried blood coated their arms and was matted in their fur. Ugly smashed in snouts bore vicious snarls and glowing eyes were filled with a carnivorous desire.

The Balverines stood upon their hind legs and swiped with inhuman speeds, the rakes of their claws audibly slicing through the air. "I hope your finding them amusing to fight." Reaver called from above. "I don't want you to get bored." Together, Page and I fought through many of the transformed nobles, able to roll out of their incoming onslaughts and landing killing blows. One particularly burly one was able to cleave four deep gashes into the small of my back, and I knew that would scar for life.

After the last Balverine dropped to floor, I sheathed my sword and joked to Page, "This is the last party I take you too."

She wiped the blood dripping from the small gash below her eye and smiled weakly. Her smile quickly faded, and her eyes widened, shouting, "Look out!" I looked over my shoulder to see the large teeth of a Balverine about to sink into me. But with the crack of a pistol firing, the creature fell back onto the tiled floor, a bullet between its eyes.

Right as I was about to turn and give my thanks, a smooth voice rang out, "Well, I must say, you've made me out to be a somewhat poor host." Reaver gracefully leaned against his gain and smirked down at us. "Rather rude of you to dispose of all my guests."

"Now it's your turn, Reaver." Spat Page as she raised her pistol, her eye trained on his face. The gun fired, and the bullet whirled from the barrel. The man effortlessly, and inhumanely, grasped his cane and deflected the shot, the sound of metal against metal ringing throughout the room, the bullet landing at our feet.

Reaver continued to grin down at us. "Ooh, my dear girl, why not stop all this bickering? The three of us could go up to my quarters and have a…" His smile grew ever more devilish, "private party."

Disgust etched Pages features. "Do you have any idea who this is? It's Logan's sister. The princess." She motioned to me.

The man's face shifted into one of genuine intrigue as his dark eyes bore into me, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if I was unsatisfactory. "The king's sister a bona fide Hero…" he mused. After a moment of his gaze studying me he straightened his posture and proclaimed, "Well, I wouldn't dream of coming between siblings. Well, that's not strictly true…" he turned and began to walk back from the ledge, continuing his ramblings, "There was that time... Anyway, best of luck with this whole revolution lark." Page fired once again, hitting the frame of the door he was exiting through, shouting for him to come back. "Perhaps we'll meet again one day. Tatty-bye."

The wooden door slammed behind him and Page turned toward me, seething as she spat "Bloody coward!"

Above us Kidd shouted from the cage, "Would someone mind getting us out of here now?"

Reaver must have thrown down the keys as we found them at the base of the wheel. Perhaps he was satisfied with our "performance," but I doubted he did so out of the goodness of his heart or his word. Kidd was able to climb down from the cage and we exited the mansion into the soft morning sun. We must have been in there all night, fighting for our lives.

We sat outside the mansion on a stone fence, dressing our wounds from the night. As Page patched the gash in my shoulder from the Sand Fury, she said "I never thought I'd side with royal blood. But you're nothing like your brother." I looked up into her dark eyes and all the distrust she had shown me the last seven months had subsided. "The Bowerstone Resistance will follow you without question." She stepped out in front of me and a familiar fire filled her face. "So long as you promise to change things when you take the throne. Poverty, children forced to work, people living in fear… you have to make it stop."

I stood up, holding back a wince from my freshly bandaged wounds, and reached out my hand stating firmly, "I promise."

Page's face filled with joy but then quickly hardened into the commander's look she bore so well. "All right then. We should get back. We've got a revolution to plan."

Page, Kidd, and I began to exit Reaver's Mansion's grounds, passing by the same bleary-eyed guard who seemed not even to notice us. Far in the distance we could hear the bellowing voice of the Millfield's town crier, "The speech will commence shortly!"

Page looked around confused, "What's going on?"

The town crier continued, "All citizens gather at the castle for the king's message. The speech will commence shortly!"

Kidd shook his head, "This is never good."

Page clasped my shoulder, "You should find out what it's about. I'd come with you, but there's a reason we stay underground. We'll see you at the base when it's over, all right?" I nodded and watched as she and Kidd ran off into shadows of the forest surrounding the town. I hurriedly fetched a coach to Bowerstone Castle, paying extra for the driver's haste, discretion, and extra pair of tan trousers, white buttoned shirt, and wide brimmed hat.

I met Ben outside the gates into the Castle's courtyard. I had to gently tap his shoulder as he did not recognize me in men's clothing. Together we followed the masses through the entrance, which was guarded by no less than six of Logan's special guard. I looked up and saw that the sky was blanketed in grey clouds, small droplets falling intermittently.

As Ben and I moved through the crowd, I could see Logan atop the stairs leading into the Castle, flanked by two heavily armed guards. He raised his hand to the people to quite them, and then began. "Yes. Traitors walk amongst us. Traitors plot to end us. Traitors would have you believe their cause is noble." So, Logan had not missed the efforts made against him. I expected nothing less, as anything less would have made him a fool.

We pushed through the crowd, citizens grumbling as they stepped aside. As we drew nearer, I could see my brother's face more clearly. It was the worst state I had ever seen him in. His hair had thinned and retreated, balding prematurely. His face was hollow, sharp cheekbones jutting out, looking as though they were about to slice open the pale skin resting on top of them. Dark circles lay beneath his eyes, which were hollowed with lack of nutrition. _Has he been eating?_ I asked myself, my sibling concern rising within me. I quickly pushed it away with reminders of what he had done.

He continued. "They wear many masks. They may look like your friends. They may even look like your most loyal servants. This…" He motioned to the bottom of the steps where a guard held a restrained man in tattered white clothing. A man with black and silver hair and a large moustache. "This is the face of a traitor."

"Swift…" Ben gasped, the heads of the surrounding people swiveling towards him. My heart pounded, and my breathing ceased, no words forming.

"Major Swift," Logan proclaimed to the masses. "a respected member of the army and sworn servant of the kingdom, has plotted against us all." I glanced over to see Ben furrow his eyebrows. "He was apprehended attempting to turn loyal soldiers against us, and is thus charged with espionage, treason, and conspiracy." Ben's face contorted into one of anger as my brother defamed his commanding officer.

Logan interrupted the wave of gasps rolling through the crowd. "Yet there are still others darkening our land with their betrayal. We shall hunt these traitors down, wherever they may be. And they shall suffer the same fate as Major Swift." My brother's face darkened and his voice raised into a roar, "The fate of all enemies of the crown."

The guard restraining Swift took several steps back and aimed his pistol at his black and silver head. Ben reached out his hand toward his dearest friend, a childlike notion that perhaps it could be stopped. I placed a hand on his shoulder, and, just as quickly, the pistol fired. We both looked away, but were still able to hear the audible thud of Major Swift's body on the stone steps.

Ben turned toward me, eyes glowing with despair and hatred. "He has to be stopped. No matter what it takes. He has to be…" He stopped, steadying his trembling voice and shaking his head. He clutched my shoulder and turned me around, "Come on. We need to tell the others."

And so, we made our way out of the crowd, my hand gripping Ben's. We moved quickly, ignoring the suspicious looks those around us casted our way. Ben trailed behind me, and casted one last look to the castle steps.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The journey back to the headquarters was as silent as it was long. Ben refused to say a word and would ignore my attempts to address how he might be feeling about the death of his commander and dear friend. I wanted nothing more than to show him that he had my support, but words seemed to fail me. I fell silent too, worried that Ben might despise me for being kin to the man who had just had Swift executed in front of the masses. The guilt must have shown on my face enough for Ben to notice, for I felt his rough fingers grasp mine firmly. I shifted my eyes to him, and while he continued to stare straight ahead, his hand squeezed mine reassuringly. I had never been more grateful for a friendship than in that moment.

Only once back underground was Ben able to speak again. It was when I joined him, Walter, Page, and Jax who I had just been reunited with, after taking time to change back into my modified military clothing, that my mentor turned to me, his eyes filled with sadness. "Ben told us what happened. Swift was a good friend. He died like a soldier."

Ben, who was leaning against the stone wall on the opposite side of the room, scoffed, "A true soldier? Let's not pretend there was anything noble about the way he died. He was tortured, humiliated, and murdered." I could hear the fury in his voice, even if it was disguised as snark.

"And he didn't give Logan anything or we'd be dead by now. I call that noble." Walter replied fiercely, and I saw Ben's eyes close, understanding that he was right.

Page spoke, bracing herself on the map before her, declining to make eye contact with anyone. "It was just a matter of time before Logan did this. Before he decided to hunt us down." She said quietly. Finally, she raised her head and her dark eyes bore into me. "We have to fight back." She stated firmly.

"We're still not ready though." Walter countered. "We need more allies. And," he continued, a note of optimism tracing his tone. "thanks to Swift's efforts, we know exactly where to look." I couldn't help the feeling of hope creeping up from within me, its warmth thawing the cold that had resulted from mourning the death of Swift. I had vowed that no one would die for me, and that had crumbled on the steps of the castle. But Swift did not die in vain, he died for Albion.

Ben, who had seemed empowered by the words of my mentor, abandoned his seclusion against the wall and came to join us around the table. "Before he was executed," he began, "the Major managed to send us a message."

"A soldier still loyal to the Old Guard brought it to me, at a great risk to his life." reported Walter.

"What does it say?" I asked.

"Well, this is Swiftie we're talking about, so it's rather straightforward." replied Ben, giving a soft chuckle. " _You will find allies in Aurora_." He recited from memory.

Page shook her head, "I still don't understand how anyone there could help us. Aurora is a dead land. There's nothing there." She gestured at the map, specifically the patch of land across the sea from Albion. It was a stark contrast between my homeland and the one in question. While the greenery of Albion was clearly shown, lovingly detailed by the map's artist, Aurora was tan and devoid of any sort of geography. As I stared at the ugly patch of nothing, I admittedly saw Page's point.

"Or," Walter began, "at least that's what we've been told. It's still the only lead we have anyway."

"Can we get on with the plan?" Interjected Ben. He adjusted the strap of grenades on his torso as if the weight had become uncomfortably heavy. "I have an overwhelming urge to shoot someone."

Walter nodded. "First thing, we'll need a ship. You and Ben will get a hold of one while Page and I will make sure the rest of the fleet doesn't follow." He set the tasks as if they were as easy as buying milk from the local shop. Was he aware of just how difficult it would be to sneak a ship out of the King's Harbor during a time like this?

"You'll need to go via the back alleys." Advised Page. "And they'll be crawling with soldiers."

It was Ben who replied. "Not a problem. I know my way around the place." Page looked to him with appraising eyes, as if she had just realized that having a soldier working with us could actually prove useful. He turned to me, "I'll meet you at the back of the sewers. We're going to show Logan just what traitors can do." He set his jaw and strode out of the room.

Page jutted her chin after him. "Go on. My men are putting together the materials we'll need. It should be quite a display."

"Aurora is a distant place, it could be a while before we return" Walter said to me quietly as I turned to leave. "If there's things you need to do, now is the time." I placed my hand softly on his arm, grateful for his caring nature. I assured him that everything was taken care of and made my way after Ben.

Jax and I found him, back against the wall, turning over his pistol in his hand, his thumb tracing the metalwork around the sides. He didn't look up as I approached him, just continued to admire the firearm in his palm. "You know, Swift taught me almost everything I know about being a soldier." He sheathed the pistol and stood up tall, bearing that same mischievous grin I had seen back in Mourningwood Fort. "Let's go show these bastards how it's done." I returned the grin and followed behind the soldier as he led us out of the sewers and above ground.

The sun had dipped behind the brick landscape and the moon casted dark shadows across the alleys we navigated. There were no crickets to indicate that night had fallen but the hum of the factories had ceased even though the ever-present smog still lingered in the sky. The sides of buildings were decorated with even more wanted posters, now including Ben and Walter alongside Page. I wondered why I was the only one spared from having their face plastered across the kingdom. Would it have brought shame to the King to admit that his very own sister was a rebel and thus had stayed his hand in ordering a bounty on my head? I did not know the answer nor had time to ponder it for Ben was whispering for me hurry behind him.

He placed a finger to his lips before motioning to a member of Logan's guard stationed in the alley ahead of us. "We need to get to the far end of the dock, so probably best not to shoot until we have to. Come on. Leave the talking to me," he smirked. "I have an idea." He emerged from the shadows from within which we were hiding and strode towards to guard with a casual gait.

The guard caught eye of Ben and stood protectively in front of the gate near him, the entrance towards the docks I imagined. "Stop!" he commanded severely. "Only Royal Guard allowed."

"Oh, I know." Ben chatted as Jax let out a low growl, pressing himself to my legs. "can I just say, wow, you look so stylish, you know, with the helmets and everything." I gave a reassuring pat on my dog's head which prompted the ceasing of his snarling, before stepping out to join Ben. I casted my eyes over to the nearest wall which had a warrant for Ben's arrest quite literally only feet from the actual soldier. I couldn't quite decide whose idiocy was worse: Ben's for chatting to a Royal Guard while his warrant reached over 50,000 gold or the guard who was tasked with bringing in such rebels who just stood there, letting one of them chat his ear off.

"Me and my friend were just wondering if we could join you, because, I mean, you just make us ordinary soldiers feel so inadequate." I saw the eyes of the guard shift to me under his helmet and I gave a weak smile.

The same eyes narrowed and he raised his hand to point in the direction we came from. "Leave."

"Come on." Ben encouraged. "Don't you have any leaflets or application forms we could take with us? If we could just get inside and get your autographs. We are huge fans."

"Leave or we will be forced to terminate you."

Ben raised his eyebrows and gave a sound of approval. "See?" he said turning to me. "Even their vocabulary is stylish." Then he reached behind him and before the guard to could grab his, Ben's blunderbuss had shot right through his silver breastplate. The gunshot echoed throughout the alley and we heard the yells of other guards from behind the gate. As their footfalls thundered toward us Ben turned to me, smiling meekly, "Okay, I admit it. I didn't really have an idea." I snorted in agreement and awaited the opening of the gates. Once they did, Ben and I began battle with the five guards awaiting us on the other side. These opponents were far smarter than the last ones Ben and I faced together but still stood no match for the combination of our blades, guns, and magic.

"We'll have to cut through the warehouse." Ben said pointing to the building the Royal Guard had obviously been using as a temporary base in Industrial. "The place is crawling with the sods. Get ready!" he cried as shots began to whir through the air. They came in countless numbers but amongst the stored barrels of gunpower surrounding their positions they were easy enough to blast out of our path.

"Let's get out of here." Ben grabbed my hand and pulled me through the other side of the building. "The docks are just around the corner." He began to run, navigating the alleys with ease. Just as we were about to head straight for the harbor, to my right I heard a great explosion. I spun my head to see a great metal structure engulfed in flames. The beams creaked and groaned as it toppled over into the nearby building with a booming crash, sealing off the pathway from the center of Bowerstone Industrial. The flames quickly spread to the nearby docked fleet which, due to the large amount of ammunition aboard, combusted and sent them sinking into the depths. "Wow, that should keep the bastards occupied." Chuckled Ben, admiring the burning wreckage of the former Royal Fleet. "Come on," he urged. "The way to the ships should be clear."

We had traveled barely ten feet before he retracted that statement as we were greeted with another group of guards charging at us, swords drawn. I groaned. Would they ever relent? It was hard fought, but Ben and I were able to cut through my brother's men once more. After a satisfying slash across the remaining guard's neck, the soldier looked up and yelled, "Walter! What kept you?"

I glanced up from my own kill to see my mentor jogging toward us, his brow wet with perspiration and his breath slightly labored. "We have to hurry. They're going to be following us after all."

"What about Page?" asked Ben, looking around for his favorite rebel commander.

"She's staying behind. Someone needs to organize things here." He answered. "Now, come on!" He made his way to the dock extending out into the dark sea stretching beyond the port of town. Stopping before an old and deteriorating rowboat he remarked, "Well, it's not much, but at least it floats. That's what counts." I stared at him, hoping he was joking.

"Or," interjected Ben, moving past us further down the dock. "We could take this one and not drown as soon as we leave port." He motioned to a large ship with a golden eagle's head at its bough.

I admired its magnitude as Walter chuckled, "Even better. I've got a good feeling about this voyage." He placed his hands on his hips and looked approvingly upon our chosen vessel. I quickly scrambled aboard, the yells of guards approaching encouraging our haste in setting sail. I let Walter and Ben take charge of getting us out on the ocean, having no experience in the matter myself. Soon, the engine sputtered to life the sail unraveled, catching the wind. The ship began to chug its way into the open sea, quickly leaving Bowerstone Industrial and Albion, my homeland, a speck on the horizon. However, Walter's good feeling of our journey was entirely misguided.

I was beneath the deck when it happened, when I heard the first cannon fire. The ship trembled and rocked, throwing me forward into the map I was studying. I quickly clambered up the stairs, being thrown once again as another round hit the side of the ship. As I reached the deck I looked around desperately for Ben and Walter but only saw a great naval ship slithering beside us. My heart thudded loudly in my ears disturbing the quiet as the cannons were aimed directly into our hull. All I could do was stare as the thunderous clap of cannon fire sounded and then… darkness.

"Ben! Ben!" I heard a voice calling out. I could see the sunlight from beneath my eyelids. It was bright, very bright, too bright. My head throbbed as I shifted my hands beneath me, the ground feeling supple. I attempted to open my eyes but had to squint while they adjusted to the light. "Ben!" the voice called again, drawing nearer. I groaned as a loud bark sounded near my head. I saw that Jax was faithfully standing above me, using his wet tongue to encourage me to sit up. Once I managed it, I looked to see Walter walking toward me, seeming a little rough but overall in good health. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern knitting his eyebrows together.

I stood and began to limp toward him, my legs feeling sore and bruised. Casting a look around, I noticed only sand, rocks, and the large expanse of the sea. It reminded me of the chamber Reaver had beneath his estate. "Yes," I replied, "Ben's not here?"

"No," Walter gazed past my shoulder, eyes searching the endless stretch of sand. "looks like we didn't all make it. I only hope… Well, maybe he washed up somewhere else. I'm sure that's it." He nodded, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than me. I couldn't blame him, I was also feeling a great pit in my stomach at the lack of his presence. What if he didn't make it? The thought was almost too much to bare.

Walter began to make his way back up where he came from along the shore. "Anyway, the only way forward seems to be through a rather ominous cave." I heard the hesitation in his voice and tried to ignore it, just like with the skeletal remains we passed by. The cave's large opening reminded me much of a dragon's maw, with stalagmites and stalactites forming stone teeth that shone menacingly in the intense sunlight. It was incredibly hot, even in the shade of the cavern, sand rolling in waves throughout it.

"Before we go any further," Walter began, "I'd just like to say one thing." He paused, looked around the cave, and with a great inhale shouted, "BALLS!" His cry of frustration echoed throughout the cave, replaying that same moment of emotion over and over again. "So, this is what Aurora looks like then." He remarked. "I was hoping it would be a little less. cavey." I almost laughed but was distracted by Jax's yelping resonating off the stone walls. "Hello, sounds like the dog found something. You never know, it might be a luxury inn."

As we reached where my canine friend was, a swarm of wings fluttered above out heads. "Bats. He found bats." The old soldier muttered. "Good work, boy. Bats are exactly what we need right now." I was reminded of Jasper and his dealings with the bats we found in my father's escape route. Jasper, it had been a long time since I had seen him. I hoped he was doing well in Brightwall. I hoped he was safe. I wondered if he worried about us. He undoubtedly would if he knew about all of our adventures as well as being shipwrecked on an unknown shore. Even as a child Jasper would run after me with concern when I would fall when climbing trees and scrape up my knees. My heart ached at those memories, memories of a simpler time.

It was Walter's voice that interrupted my reminiscing. "What do you think happened to Ben? He's a strong swimmer. Probably reached a sandy beach somewhere. Palm trees. Beautiful women. Coconut cocktails. Jammy bastard." He let out a gruff chuckle, but I remained silent. Walter was using humor to cope with the fact of Ben's disappearance, it was clear. I was at a loss to help him.

After a couple minutes of traveling through the shifting sands our feet finally fell upon stable ground. It was stone flooring, and across the cave was a great expanse of a manmade structure, complete with stairs leading down to a brightly glowing purple circle embedded in the center floor. "What the hopping Hobbes is that?" Walter said, staring in disbelief. The circle shimmered, with the faint sound of magical energy audible from where we were. "It must be protecting something. Like the way out, most likely." He began to lead us toward the center staircase descending to it, obviously anxious to get out of this cave. Bats continued to shriek past my ear in no way helping the pit that was growing in my stomach. I couldn't explain it, but something felt… wrong. Like we weren't supposed to be here. Walter must have seen my reservation, saying, "Well, I'll tell you one thing, we haven't gotten this far, haven't got this many people behind us, to end up dying in some far-off forsaken hole in the ground." I wasn't sure how that was supposed to make me feel better. It didn't.

The feeling became worse as we reached the magical barrier, it humming ominously at our feet. "Wherever we are, we're not the only ones who got stuck in this damned place." Walter motioned to the several skeletal remains scattered around the center. "Not the most encouraging sign in the world, is it?" I shook my head vigorously. "Still, they might have something useful on them." He began to examine the remains. When he looked up to see me just standing there, anxiously staring at the purple barrier, he suggested, "Why don't you go check the second lot over there?"

I cautiously made my way over to where he was indicating, careful not to step on any bones. Near one of the remains I noticed a small collection of parchment and books. A small leather book caught my eye and I delicately picked it up, thumbing through its pages. My eyes fell upon a certain section that caused a chill to creep up my spine. "I found something! A note." I called to Walter. I began to recite the passage. " _It speaks to us still. Darkness incarnate. We know now we can never escape it_."

"Well that doesn't sound good." Walter remarked before shouting, "Hey, I've got something too. One of these poor sods left a journal. Most of the pages have disintegrated but… well, you… you can still see plenty of weird symbols." He stood up and chuckled weakly at the contents of the small book he held. "It's mostly gobbledygook anyway. I mean listen to this nonsense." He cleared his throat and began to imitate a mystic voice as he recited the pages, " _Luminous spirits of the sands, impart daybreak and gleam under a quiet moon_." He laughed, "What's that supposed to –" but before he could finish, a beam of purple light emitted from the circle into the cavern ceiling above and the barrier vanished revealing a winding staircase deep into its depths.

"Look at that!" marveled Walter, "Can you believe I did that?" He laughed, pleased with his work. Walter began to descend before pausing and admitting, "It does look rather dark though. Maybe going down isn't such a good idea." Jax barked at Walter. "Oh yeah?" he looked down at him and placed his hands on his hips. "Well, why don't you lead the way if you're so tough." Jax barked once more and began to tread down the stone steps, Walter and I close behind, into the darkness that awaited us.

It seemed like we had descended miles below ground before we reached the end of the staircase. Once we did, we were greeted with a great stone arch leading into a corridor, or what I imagined was a corridor. The light that had only barely existed to help us down the steps seemed unable to permeate the blackness that lied beyond the arch. "You know how I said it looked 'somewhat dark?'" began Walter. "Well, I'd like to amend that statement: we're looking into utter, total, complete darkness."

Jax barked somewhere ahead and soon we heard his paws bounding for us. "What have you got there boy?" asked Walter. The dog dropped what looked to be a piece of wood before my mentor, who shouted with glee. "Ha! You little genius! Good boy." He gave Jax a scratch on his head before pulling out his flint and steel from his side pouch, striking it hard, the sparks illuminating his face. Soon, the sparks caught the wood and a brightly flaming torch was illuminating the halls surrounding us.

It was old, very old. The stone walls were intact enough but it seemed the ceilings had caved in, leaving large boulders of stone throughout the hall, exposing the glittering cavern above. Sand drifts were all around, wrapping around pillars and corners of the room. Each pillar and rock had strange inscriptions carved into them in a language I had never seen before. Under each inscription were smatterings of old half-melted wax candles that looked as if they had been unused for centuries. As Walter and I continued to walk through the halls, more skeletons remained scattered about.

"So, what do you think this place is?" My tutor asked.

"I have no idea." I replied truthfully.

"Temple of some sort?" he proposed. "What could anyone possible worship in here?" He asked, noticing that the darkness was somehow thicker now as we could not see past the torchlight a few feet in front of us. After walking a bit more, we came upon another arch, although it was more triangular than most I had seen back home. A large cavern was illuminated by another purple portal gleaming down at us from across the expanse. "We're not going any further this way." Walter motioned to the floor that came to a sudden stop presenting no way across the crevice surrounding us. He examined it further. "Looks like a bridge. Is that the mechanism to raise it on the other side?" He asked, pointing across the chasm to what looked to be a great big lever. "Isn't that handy." He muttered. "One of us will have to get across to use it. There must be some other way to get there."

We backtracked and found a side staircase leading to some deteriorating balconies overhanging the chasm. "Here we go." Walter said. "You should be able to make it to the other side from here." I leapt down, immediately shivering as a cold feeling overcame me as soon as I left the torchlight. I looked back to my mentor who was watching me from above and I continued to glance worriedly over at him as I made my way towards the other side. I didn't want to leave him alone. Hell, I didn't want to be alone here. This place seemed shadowy, beyond just the absence of light. I felt like something was awaiting us. Something… dark.

Eventually I made it to the lever, and Walter called out to me across the gap. "Okay, be careful now. That thing's probably pretty stiff, and we don't want to make any more noise than we have to." I grasped the handle firmly in my hands and tugged, the resistance of its mechanism forcing me to use all my strength. The lever slammed down and a great rumble sounded throughout the cavern. A stone bridge emerged from the floor beneath me and slammed into the other side with such force that the cavern shivered, causing great chunks of rock to rain down from above into the depths below.

"Yes… and quiet as stealthy mice, the adventurers forged ahead." He shook his head, crossing the bridge to meet me, but stopped cold when something spoke. It was like a whisper, but sounded more reptilian, like when a snake flicks its tongue. It was impossible to determine what it had said but caused my blood to turn to ice regardless. "I know I have a tendency to be slightly paranoid," began Walter, speaking slow, "but did that sound like something friendly to you?" He looked around, waiting for the origin of the noise to speak again. It did not, and Walter hesitantly began to lead us up toward the barrier still gleaming above us.

"Now where have we seen that before? Stand back. Walter the Scholar will deal with this." He paused and added, "with an increasing sense of trepidation, admittedly." He cleared his throat and receded back into his mystic tone,  
" _Luminous spirits of the sands, inhale the restless gloaming_." Once more, the magic receded, and my mentor looked proudly at me. "There you go. What can I say? I have a knack for gibberish." I gave him a weak smile and followed him through where the barrier once was. As soon as we passed through, the hum of magic was audible once more. I whipped my head around to see that the barrier had reformed, blocking our path back. "Um." Walter began, "Do you ever get the feeling somebody's playing games with us?" He asked nervously.

"All the time."

"Let's just be thankful and get through this place as quickly as we can." I nodded and followed behind him as we ventured through the halls before us.

Suddenly, the slithering whisper we had heard before presented itself again, followed by the most horrible and heart-clenching voice I had ever heard. "The light you bring will die." It called out from the depths, seeming multiplied as if its owner was all around us. "The light inside of you will die. All that you are will die." Fear crept up from within me, placing its cold grip around my heart.

"Who's there?" Shouted Walter. "Show yourself!" Suddenly the dark beyond the torchlight was illuminated by hundreds of brightly glowing eyes. "Oh, this isn't good." Trembled my mentor.

The voice laughed softly and cooed, "The children are here to play."

Several of the eyes had charged for us, showing their forms to be humanoid but make entirely out of shadows. They had small wings sprouting out of their backs and gripped shadowy scythes that they swung at us. "What are they?" cried Walter as he nearly tripped over himself backing away from them. I drew my sword and began to parry the oncoming onslaughts of their ghostly blades, one succeeding at striking past my guard, cleaving a gash on my shoulder. The pain was white hot and unending, as if the blades were coated in poison. The voice relished in this, calling out, "The tissue tears. The tears burn. The burns blossom like dirty flowers on their skin." I gritted my teeth and fought past it, grateful that even though they were made of darkness, they still could be vanquished by a well-placed blow.

"Be corrosive. Be pernicious. Be diseased. Be devoured." Whispered the voice from the darkness. Walter, who had found the sense to draw his blade, aided me in disposing of the dark creatures. "Do you feel the darkness swarming around you? Do you feel it creep its torturous path through your mouth, your eyes, until it eats away inside you? Tell me how it feels." I gave out a great cry as I stuck my sword through the midsection of the last one, feeling its shadowy essence on my skin, ice cold. "You are tainted." Said the voice. "The stain will never wash out. The sun will never shine on you again. Tainted broken little toys." Jax whimpered, pressing his body against me, tail tucked. I tried to console him with a few pats and found my hands to be trembling with terror. I had never known fear like this. It felt like the darkness around us was trying to suffocate us, only kept at bay with the light of the torch in Walter's hand.

"It's alright." He said to me. "We're all right. We – We just have to keep going, that's all. We're all right." Again, he seemed more like he was trying to convince himself than me. I walked close to him, keeping my hand on my hilt, twitching at every sound. "More of those things!" cried Walter as the bright eyes charged toward us again. He ducked his head and swung the torch blindly illuminating the fact that it was only bats. My mentor shook his head and muttered, "Come on, Walter. Just hold it together." Jax continued to whine, rushing to my side every time another cloud of bats shrieked past us. The further we went, the denser the darkness became. Perhaps it was the trick of the shadows surrounding us, but I could have sworn I saw dark shards scattering away from the torchlight in front of us. I felt us unraveling. We had to get out of there.

The halls surrounding us grew ever eerier, with metallic statues lining the pathway. It reminded me of the suits of armor decorating the castle, but these were hunched over and had long beak like faces, like ravens. I watched them cautiously, feeling as though their hollow eyes were following us. Even further was another metal figure. It was tall and angle-like, with great wings unfurled behind it. In its steel hands was a large staff gripped across its torso menacingly. Walter looked wearily up at its hooded face and hurried past it muttering, "Damn this book and whoever wrote it. The bastards. Why didn't they tell us what was down here? 'Darkness incarnate.' Like we're supposed to know what that means." He began to whisper rapidly. "It won't stop. It won't stop until it kills us." I glanced over to him and saw his eyes scanning the darkness ahead rapidly, looking like a cornered animal.

After a little further he grabbed my shoulder hard, stopping us. "Wait, I think we must be close to an exit. There's a cold breeze. Can you feel it?" He charged forward, running fast enough that it was a struggle for me to keep up. "There's that sound again." He said as the reptilian whisper emerged from the shadows once more. "It's almost like…" he began, we reached another archway to our left and as soon as stepped in front of its opening, a great gust of ice cold wind blew, snuffing out the fire of the torch and darkness enveloped us. "No!" Cried Walter. "Not the light! Not the bloody light!" I could hear the panic in his voice. For a moment, I could see absolutely nothing. I could only feel Jax against my leg. Soon, I saw glimpses of Walter kneeling over the torch, the sparks illuminating him intermittently. "Come on, work, dammit. Those things are all around us! Come on, come on, come on!" with a final strike the sparks caught, and the torch was lit once more.

Walter quickly snatched it up and held it above his head, searching the surrounding area for the demons. I too looked around and found there were none to be seen. Suddenly and great hissing sounded, and I whipped towards Walter who was waving the torch in front of him in a panic, his eyes closed tightly shut. I could not see what had prompted this reaction, and he too, once opening his eyes, scanned the darkness. "Balls." he whispered. He turned and began to lead through the archway, muttering to himself. "… no, no, we have to get out of here. You hear me? We have to get out of here!" he shouted, terror causing his voice to tremble slightly. Whatever he thought he saw must have shaken him to his core, but he didn't offer any explanation. He just continued to mutter, "…as long as we have fire we'll be alright. We'll have to keep walking a-and we'll get out of here and we-we'll be alright…"

"We are coming." Rasped the voice.

"It's here!" Cried Walter.

"We will devour your kingdom." Amongst the piles of sand there was now a dark, oozing liquid like tar. It dripped upwards, as insane and unnatural as that sounds. The voice continued, "There will be no bargains. There will be only darkness. The children command it."

More of the winged demons emerged from the black before us. Walter was paralyzed with fear, "They're everywhere." He whispered. "Leave us alone!" he cowered beneath his arm as they charged toward him. I stepped between them, slashing and hacking to protect him.

The voice continued to taunt from the darkness, "You bring the light, but it betrays you. It knows you are not worthy of its toxic gleam." It cackled. "Do you want to see my face?" Walter cried out. "Close your eyes." It urged. "Those orbs of light offend us." From beyond the firelight, I could see… something, a figure that would disappear as soon as I glanced at it. It was with us. "Did the blind seer not tell you about us? Did she not warn you?" It laughed from the darkness. How could it know about Theresa?

Walter was doubled over, his hands clasped around his ears and eyes squinted shut as the laughter echoed around us. "QUIET!" he shouted, throwing the torch into the darkness. It twirled in the air then smacked right into a looming figure, which erupted into purple flames, obscuring it from my view. An inhuman squeal rang out and both the fire and the figure were gone from sight. Walter straightened himself and panted, "It's gone. The bastard's dead and gone. And we're getting out of here." He grasped my arm and continued to run through the halls, the lack of light making it difficult not to trip over stones and remains.

Along the way, more purple barriers lighted our path and I could see the disappointment on my mentor's face. "I'm sorry." He said above the magical hum. "I lost my head back there, I know. I never liked dark carves, but this… It's as if someone took my worst nightmare and made it real." We hurried past more metallic statues and dark liquid creeping from the stone walls. "But it's gone now," Walter assured me. "It's gone and we're going to be fine."

Eventually we came upon a small cliff leading into more cavernous halls. "Looks like the only way is down." Said Walter. "Goody." He stepped closer to the ledge and shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, right." He glanced to me waiting for him to take the jump. "Wait… just wait. I'll need a moment to prepare myself for this. But don't let me stop you." He motioned encouragingly for me to go first. I obliged, my feet landing squarely on the sand beneath, Jax following faithfully behind. "You alright down there?" He called.

"Yes." I replied, looking up to him. "It isn't far down."

"Right," he rubbed his hands together crouching to prepare for his leap. "Here I come then. Three… two…one…" But before he could jump, I saw him whip around and scream, vanishing from my view.

"Walter! Walter!" I cried out. I was only answered with the cold laugh of the voice that had been plaguing us.

"You let him die." It rasped. "You let us take him. But you're glad are you not? You wished him pain." I shouted no, but it cared not. "You wished him undone, unthreaded, unliving." I sprinted through the sand not believing him to be gone. I had to reach him, before whatever creature this was harmed him. But the darkness was unrelenting, the demons melding from its breadth, attempting to carve at me. I fought them with newfound fervor and, once they had been slaughtered, the voice growled with rage, "You've brought hurt! The children are angry." I continued further, the dark beings erupting from the pools of liquid oozing across the path before me. "A great wave of darkness will cover your land. They will come for your king. Who would sit upon the throne of Albion?" It knew about Logan. How? I had not the time to ponder such a query as the creature's dark minions were numerous. "Accept death now." It advised. "It is so much easier than what is to come."

I pushed the voice from my mind and continued to forge ahead. Walter was my only concern at that moment, not the taunting of some creature that refused to show its face. "What happens to this piece of flesh when darkness touches its soul?" it questioned. I almost screamed for it to not touch him but remained silent against its prodding. Soon, I reached a great hall below another small ledge. I leapt down and looked up to see Walter on the opposite side, guttural noises escaping him. He was in pain. I ran quickly to him and saw the black liquid was encasing him, oozing up his sides, gurgling out of his mouth, and leaking like tears out of his closed eyes. I reached out to help him but knew not what to do.

Then I heard the snake-like whisper behind me once more and I unsheathed my sword, swinging around. I saw it for a second, the same figure Walter had engulfed with flames, before it vanished into smoke. Despite not seeing it for long, I was sure it wasn't human. I could have sworn it had multiple faces. "We have waited centuries for you." It growled. "You see now the future that awaits you. All those people you want to save. The people you want to control. They will shrivel as your friend has." More shadowy creatures rushed toward us, and I gripped my sword tightly. "They will be food for the children. They are still so hungry, So very hungry." Now great dark birds emerged from the liquid, cawing like shadow ravens. "You can never escape the darkness." The voice leered as they plummeted towards me, meeting their end through a great fireball thrown from my palm. "It flocks to you always. Watch us fly into your heart."

The shadows emitted from the defeated demons slithered toward the same metallic figures as before, the ones with sharp metal beaks. The darkness crept between the plating and they began to tremble, wing-like razors revealing themselves from their crouched positions. Their eyes, once hollow, now held a gleaming purple glow. "The children hide in their shells. They have bodies now. Bodies can tear you asunder!" The creatures tore at me, their blades slicing through the air. As I worked at dividing their limbs from their bodies, I saw the creature, back towards me, hunched over Walter. "Ah," it cooed almost lovingly. "They eyes are gone forever." I launched a ball of fire toward it, but it only disintegrated into the smoke it disappeared in.

Once the metal birdmen were defeated, the voice cooed again. "He bleeds light and fades away. You should see it. It's a beautiful sight." I glanced up to Walter, who had been released by the dark liquid, which dripped from him, but seemed covered in darkness, like the shadows clung to him. The tarlike substance flowed toward one of the great angel statues lined against the wall and poured within it, animating it like the other figures before. It rushed toward me, slamming its staff down, creating a fissure that knocked me off my feet, slamming my back into the stone floor. I coughed, the wind knocked out of me, but scrambled back to my feet. I charged, my sword clanking uselessly against its metallic limbs. I rolled aside, dodging a swing from his staff only barely. I threw fireball after fireball at it, but it seemed to do nothing. I thought fast and noticed the center emblem it had carved into its chest. It seemed made of glass with a dull purple light emanating from within. I grasped my pistol and landed several carefully aimed shots into its center, hearing the tinkling of cracking glass. I rolled again, evading a flock of birds it had conjured from the tip of its stave. Several more bullets landed, the glow of the purple light shooting out in beams as the figure roared in pain. I pushed one final fiery blast from my palm and the statue exploded into bits of armor and smoke. "This land is ours!" The voice roared from the shadows. "Darkness will spread across the world!"

I rushed to Walter, who was kneeling over on the floor, the shadows seeming to have left him. "I can't see." He whispered, still hunched over. "That thing… it blinded me. I can't see!" He cried in a panic. He clawed the air, finally finding me next to him and gripped my arm hard.

"It's okay, Walter. I'm here." I reassured him. I heaved him to his feet and finally saw his face. His eyes… they were like they were gone. Only darkness surrounded them, a dark void. I almost puked at the sight of it and I felt more terrified than I ever have. But I shook away that feeling. I needed to be strong for Walter.

"We have to get out. Quickly!" He cried, stretching his arms before him and finding my hand. I began to lead him to a corridor to the side of the great chamber, moving slowly and instructing him over rocks and down steps. The slithering whisper sounded again. "It's still out there! We need to leave!" I assured him we were and continued to guide him. "You can hear it too, can't you?" he asked. "It is there. I'm not mad." As we traveled further, the darkness seemed to break, sunlight streaming from the end of the hall. We had made it. We were getting out of there.


End file.
